she was glad she had been scarred. She said that whoever loved her now would love her true self, and not her pretty face.

It would be one thing if I had been cursed so that everyone I loved would die," said Will. "I could keep myself from loving. To keep others from caring for me--it is an odd, exhausting procedure.

Humans were so stupid. They had something so precious, and they barely safeguarded it at all. They threw away their lives for money, for packets of powder, for a stranger's charming smile.

You know what the worst thing I can imagine is? Simon had said. Not trusting someone I love.

Are you going to wolf out and eat me now?" "Certainly not, you'd be stringy and hard to digest." "But kosher." "I'll be sure to point any Jewish lycanthropes in your direction.

And in some way, Clary thought, he meant it, meant his gratitude. He had long ago lost the ability to distinguish between force and cooperation, between fear and willingness, between love and torture. And with that realization came a rush of numbness—what was the point of hating Valentine for being a monster when he didn’t even know he was one?

I decided it was well past time to take him home and place him in bosom of his family. If you had rather I put him in an orphanage, I fully understand.