You think she is pretty?' Will was surprised; Jem rarely opined this sort of thing. 'Yes, and you do too.' 'I hadn't noticed, really.' 'Yes, you have, and I've noticed you noticing.

I hate that stuff. It tastes like feet." At that he smiled. "How would you know what feet taste like?" "I just know.

I don’t want to be Nephilim,” said Jace. “I want to be something else. Stronger, faster, better than human. But different. Not subservient to the Laws of an angel who couldn’t care less about us. Free.” He ran his hand through a curl of her hair. “I’m happy now, Clary. Doesn’t that make a difference?

I thought perhaps that when you told me you did not love me that my own feelings would fall away and atrophy, but they have not. They have grown every day. I love you now more desperately, this moment, than I have ever loved you before, and in an hour I will love you more than that

She made a snorting noise, astonishingly human for a ghost. " I'ardly like to tell you this, Nephilim, but if you want a girl to 'ate you, there's easy enough ways of making it 'appen. You don't need my help with the poor thing." And with that, she vanished, spinning away into the mists among the graves. Will, looking after her, sighed. "Not for her," he said, under his breath, though there was no one to hear him, "for me..." and he leaned his head against the cold iron gate.

Jace, Clary thought, was the sort of person who liked it when things were happening, even things that were bad

Alec muttered a retort into his coffee. It rhymed with something that sounded a lot more like "ducking glass mole.