When Jace opened the greenhouse door, the scent hit Clary, soft as the padded blow of a cat's paw.

No, I'm just a very naughty boy. I do all sorts of bad things. I kick kittens. I make rude gestures at nuns.

Everything we need to know is locked up in your head, under those pretty red curls." Clary reached up to touch her hair protectively. "I dont think-" "So what are you going to do?" Simon asked sharply. "Cut her head open to get at it?

I'll take Shadowhunter, then. Because from what I've experienced of vampires, you mostly suck. No pun intended.

Simon remembered a rhyme his mother used to recite to him, about magpies. You were supposed to count them and say: one for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four for a birth, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret that's never been told. "Right," simon said. He had already lost count of the numbers of birds there were. Seven, he guessed. A secret that's never been told. Whatever that was.

Will speechless for once, a glass of water frozen halfway to his lips

When to people tell the same lie..." "They are working together," Will finished