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

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

If there was an arrow speeding toward Will, I would be bound by oath to step in front of it.' 'Handy, that,' said Will.

No. Absolutely not.” “Simon,” she said. “It’s a perfectly fine plan.” “The plan where you follow Jace and Sebastian off to some unknown dimensional pocket and we use these rings to communicate so those of us over here in the regular dimension of Earth can track you down? That plan?” “Yes.” “No,” he said. “No, it isn’t.” Clary sat back. “You don’t just get to say no.” “This plan involves me! I get to say no! No.” “Simon—” Simon patted the seat beside him as if someone were sitting there. “Let me introduce you to my good friend No.

Oh, I can never get enough," he said. "Which, incidentally, is what your sister said to me when - " The carriage door flew open. A hand shot out, grabbed Will by the back of the shirt, and hauled him inside. The door banged shut after him, and Thomas, sitting bolt upright, seized reins of the horses. A moment later the carriage had lurched forth into the night, leaving Gabriel staring, infuriated, after it.

To love something is to destroy it forever.

So here’s where they put you. I didn’t think they even used these cells anymore.” He glanced sideways. “I got the wrong window at first. Gave your friend in the next cell something of a shock. Attractive fellow, what with the beard and the rags. Kind of reminds me of the street folk back home.