It's too late," she said. "Don't say that." His voice was half a whisper. "I love you, Tessa. I love you.

I may be a killer," Jace said, "but I know what I am. Can you say the same?

She had never asked herself whether it cost him any effort. Any effort to stand between Will and the world, protecting each one of them from the other.

He looks," Simon had once said to Isabelle, "like he's thinking about something deep and meaningful, but if you ask him what it is, he'll punch you in the face.

We may not be all that bright, Jace said, but at least we are alive.

Tessa put a hand against the wall as she made her way numbly down the stairs. What had she almost done? What had she nearly told Will?

Simon!” The voice was Clary’s. He would know it anywhere. He wondered if his mind was conjuring it up now, a sense memory of what he’d most loved during life to carry him through the process of death. “Simon, you stupid idiot! I’m over here! At the window!” Simon jumped to his feet. He doubted his mind would conjure that up.