Mr. Branwell and Mr. Carstairs seem to have no problem cleaning their boots,” Sophie said, looking darkly from Will to Tessa. “Perhaps you could learn from their example.” “Perhaps,” said Will. “But I doubt it.” Sophie scowled, and started off along the corridor again, her shoulders tightly set with indignation. Tessa looked at Will in amazement. “What was that?” Will shrugged lazily. “Sophie enjoys pretending she doesn’t like me.” “Doesn’t like you? She hates you!

We are one now, little brother, you and I," Sebastian said. "We are one.

Wait a second," Clary said. "I never understand why people say that," Luke said, to no one in particular. "I wasn't going anywhere.

She was afraid you'd freak out? Start seeing demons in the White House?

I keep thinking about blood, I dream about it. Wake up thinking about it. Pretty soon I'll be writing morbid emo poetry about it.

He'd burn the whole world down til he could dig out you of the ashes.

It would hardly benefit me to hold anything back unnecessarily, when I know what I'm asking. For you to find a needle in--God, not even a haystack. A needle in a tower full of other needles.