Temper us in fire, and we grow stronger. When we suffer, we survive.

We shouldn’t,” protested Isabelle. “The Clave has a plan.” “The Clave has the collective intelligence of a pineapple,” said Jace. Alec blinked up at them. “Jace is right.” Isabelle turned on her brother. “What do you know? You weren’t even paying attention.” “I was,” Alec said, injured. “I said Jace was right.” “Yeah, but there’s like a 90% chance of me being right most of the time, so that’s not proof you were listening,” said Jace. “That’s just a good guess.

I learned to play the instruments of war," he said, "and paint in blood.

Oh, God, the lovebirds,” Magnus said, pulling the pillow off his face. “I hate happy couples.

My hair is naturally blonde... Just for the record. ~ Jace

And spare me the jokes about scoring." "Dammit, woman, you read my mind," he said. "Is there no filthy wordplay you can't forsee?" "It's my special magical power. I can read your mind when you're thinking dirty thoughts." "So, ninety-five percent of the time.

I'll just have them change the entry in the demonology textbook from 'almost extinct' to 'not extinct enough for Alec. He prefers his monsters really, really extinct.' Will that make you happy?