And when I saw him[my father] lying dead in a pool of his own blood, I knew then that I hadn't stopped believing in God. I'd just stopped believing God cared. There might be a God, Clary, and there might be not. Either way, we're on our own.

Only mundanes say they're sorry when what they mean is "I share your grief,"' Jace observed.

A patient, methodical sort of madman. The worst kind.

I was just thinking of bunding up Cecily and feeding her to the ducks in Hyde Park," said Will, pushing his wet hair back and favoring Jem with a rare smile.

Hearts are breakable," Isabelle said. "And I think even when you heal, you're never what you were before".

Yes, she's bleeding to death upstairs, but I thought I'd avoid telling you right away, because I like to draw the suspense out.

And I think that you do not understand that sometimes the only choice is between acceptance and madness.