Her throat ached: adoration, heartbreak, in equal measure. “Kiss me,” she said. “Please.

Clary closed her eyes. Remembering the way Jace had looked at her the night she'd freed Ithuriel, she couldn't help but imagine the way he'd look at her now if he saw her trying to lie down to die on the sand beside him. He wouldn't be touched, wouldn't think it was a beautiful gesture. He'd be angry at her for giving up. He'd be so--disappointed.

The melody rolled over her, as cool and sweet as water, as hopeful and lovely as sunrise.

Appearances are significant, and never more than in politics. You can always sway the crowd, provided you have a good story.

Gracious," said Cecily. "You must be Mr. Sallows." "Nephilim," observed the shop owner gloomily. "I detest Nephilim." "Hmph," said Cecily. "Charmed, I'm sure.

Your father," Luke said, "what did he say to you when you saw him? What did he promise you?" "Oh, you know. The usual. A lifetime's supply of Knicks tickets.

Being sixteen forever sounded good until you really thought about it. Then it didn't seem like such a great prospect.