I know you feel inhuman, and as if you are set apart, away from life and love, but... I promise you, the right man won't care.

But you hate poetry! Yes, but you make me want to write it.

"Jace?" She offered him the glass. "I am a man," he told her. "And men do not consume pink beverages. Get thee gone, woman and bring me something brown." "Brown?" Isabelle made a face. "Brown is a manly colour," said Jace and yanked on a stray lock of Isabelle's hair with his free hand. "In fact, look - Alec is wearing it." Alec looked mournfully down at his sweater. "It was black," he said. "But then it faded." "You could dress it up with a sequined headband," Magnus suggested.

The letter I received said you had need of my particular talents, but I must confess that I have so many talents that I am not sure which one you require.

I do not understand how you humans can walk in shoes that are that tall.” “Its my motto,” said Isabelle, with a sultry smile. “Nothing less than seven inches.

Without conflict there is no plot, without hope there is no story

Love isn't a weakness.