Simon watched a kelpie skip past, carrying a glass of blue fluid, and raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like Magnus’s party,” Isabelle reassured him. “Everything here ought to be safe to drink.” “Ought to be?” Aline look worried.

We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.

Mundies die awfully easily, don't they?" "Isabelle, you know it's bad luck to talk about death in a sickroom.

There was no Jace Wayland more real than the one he saw in her eyes when she looked at him.

They kind of look like evil lawn gnomes

I'm not so sure about this wind and howling darkness business," Jace went on, "smells more like landfill to me. You sure you're not from Staten Island?

We had and incident. I took care of it." "Really." Jace's voice dripped sarcasm. "Do you even know how to use that knife, Clarissa? Without poking a hole in yourself or any innocent bystanders?