What’s your name, then? ”Tessa looked at him in disbelief. “What’s my name?” “Don’t you know it?

Well, then, since you say there will be another life for me, let us both pray I do not make as colossal a mess of it as I have this one.

You serve a greater cause. Your life is not yours to throw away (Magnus Bane)

The way he looked at you. I got it then. He loved you, and it was killing him. He won't get over you, Clary, he can't.

I'm here," she said, skidding to a stop. "Can we go now?" Sebastian insisted on helping her on with the coat. "I don't think anyone's ever helped me with my coat before," Clary observed, freeing the hair that had gotten trapped under her collar. "Well, maybe waiters. Were you ever a waiter?" "No, but I was brought up by a Frenchwoman," Sebastian reminded her. "It involves an even more rigorous course of training.

If there is a life after this one, he said, let me meet you in it, James Carstairs.

He took something out of his jacket and handed it to her. It was a long thin dagger in a leather sheath. The hilt of the dagger was set with a single red stone carved in the shape of a rose. She shook her head. "I wouldn't even know how to use that--" He pressed it into her hand, curling her fingers around it. "You'd learn." He dropped his voice. "It's in your blood." She drew her hand back slowly. "All right." "I could give you a thigh sheath to put that in," Isabelle offered. "I've got tons." "CERTAINLY NOT," said Simon.