Weapons, when they break and are mended, can be stronger at the mended places. Perhaps hearts are the same.

I wouldn't call that an instrument of music," Ragnor observed sourly. "An instrument of torture, perhaps.

Whatever the Clave was discussing, the Council meeting was dragging on brutally late. “But he knows New York. He doesn’t know Alicante—

Go in peace, James Carstairs.

And the Clave wants to meet Clarissa. You know that, Jace." "The Clave can screw itself." "Jace," Maryse said, sounding genuinely parental for a change. "Language." "The Clave wants a lot of things," Jace amended. "It shouldn't necessarily get them all.

It's love, not the Battle of Thermopylae. You don't have to treat everything like it's a last stand.

Isabelle tugged her tank top back down and glared at her brother. “You don’t knock now?” “It’s my bedroom!” Alec spluttered.