The most terrible things men do, they do in the name of love."— Madame Dorothea

Something snapped inside Maryse. “He is not a Herondale. He is a Lightwood. Jace Lightwood. He’s my son.

Right. Vampires. But how do they get inside?" "They fly" ... "We dont fly," Clary felt impelled to point out. "No," Jace agreed. "We dont fly. We break and enter." ... "Flying sounds like more fun." -Clary & Jace, pg.258-

The next thing I knew I was listening to five people shouting. What was that all about, anyway?” (Luke) “Nothing,” chorused Clary, Simon, Alec, Magnus, and Jace in surprising and probably never-to-be-repeated unison. -pg.243-

she glanced down and saw that a glove of blood covered her lower arm from the elbow to the wrist. The arm was throbbing, stiff, and painful. "Is this when you start tearing strips off your T-shirt to bind up my wound?" she joked. She hated the sight of blood, especially her own. "If you wanted me to rip my clothes off, you should have just asked." He dug into his pocket and brought out his stele. "It would have been a lot less painful.

She had no recollection, later, of having decided what to do next, or of having hunted for something to wear, but somehow she was hurrying down the stairs, dressed in shadowhunter gear, the letter in one hand and the chain with the ring clasped hastily around her throat.

One can love two children. But your heart can be given romantic love to only a single other, said Woolsey.