Fine." Magnus stood up. "But," he added, pausing by Alec's chair and leaning in close to him, "you are not trivial." Alec flushed. "If you say so," he said. "I say so," said Magnus, and he turned to follow Isabelle out of the room.

Hope is not an illusion.

Love potions? For Will Herondale? T’aint my way to turn down payment, but any man who looks like you has got no need of love potions, and that’s a fact.

Looking at her, he was in London again. He saw the gaslight and smelled the smoke and dirt and horses, the metallic tang of fog, the flowers in Kew Gardens. He saw a boy with black hair and blue eyes like Alec's. A girl with long brown curls and a serious face. In a world where everything went away from him eventually, she was one of the few remaining constants.

There was a brief pause for them to evaluate the full horror of the situation. Magnus. personally, was in horror up to his elbows.

She turned to look at Sebastian, lying on the bed. He was shirtless, and even in the dim light the old whip weals across his back were visible. She had always been fascinated by Shadowhunters but had never thought she would find one whose personality she could stand for more than five minutes, until Sebastian.

I've met an attractive weasel or two in my time. He looks more like a rat." -pg.170-