The funny thing about mundies is how obsessed with magic they are for a bunch of people who don't even know what the word means.

Nothing less than 7 inches.

You know what I am." The words breathed out in an auguished whisper. "I'm part demon, Clary. Part demon. You understood that much, didn't you?" His eyes bored into her like drills. "You saw what Valentine was trying to do. He used demon blood-used it on me before I was even born. I'm part monster. Part everthing I've tried so hard to burn out, to destroy.

You know men. We have delicate egos.

I've got the Mark of Cain," said Simon. "That means nothing can kill me, right?" "You can kill yourself," Magnus said, somewhat unhelpfully. "As far as I know, inanimate objects can accidentally kill you. So if you were planning on teaching yourself the lambada on a greased platform over a pit full of knives, I wouldn't." "There goes my Saturday.

What you're blaming yourself for is being who you are. And that's no one's fault and nothing you can change.

Jace, on the other hand, looked like the sort of boy who'd come over to your house and burn it down for kicks.