But the person who stepped out of the front door was tall and thin, with short, spiky dark hair. he was wearing a gold mesh vest and a pair of silk pajama pants. He regarded Clary with mild interest, puffing gently on a fantastically large pipe as he did so. Though he looked nothing at all like a Viking, he was instantly and totally familiar. Magnus Bane

She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything--an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.

Mundies die awfully easily, don't they?" "Isabelle, you know it's bad luck to talk about death in a sickroom.

He had lost Will Herondale. And he did not know if he could ever get him back.

Flirting? We were merely indulging in a little risqué conversation," Magnus said, offended. "When I begin to flirt, I assure you the entire room will know. My flirtations cause sensations.

But-Jace what are you doing?' 'Finishing my shower. And if you‘ve made me run through all the hot water, I‘ll be very annoyed.

Well, I hate to tell you this," she said, "but your friend is an asshole." "He's not my friend," said Simon. "And I couldn't agree with you more, actually." -Maia & Simon about Jace, pg.49-