She'd always had such contempt for mundanes, the way all Shadowhunters did--she'd believed that they were soft, stupid, sheeplike in their complacency. Now she wondered if all that hatred didn't just stem from the fact that she was jealous. It must be nice not worrying that every time one of your family members walked out the door, they'd never come back.

Lightwoods,” Magnus said. “They always have to have the last word.

You could give me the past,“ he said a little sadly. “But Alec is my future.

Yes, Consul. The next time one of our esteemed members turns into a worm and eats another esteemed member, we will inform you immediately.

But you hate poetry! Yes, but you make me want to write it.

She smiled at him. “How did you know just what I’d want to see?” “How could I not?” he said. “When I think of you, and you are not there, I see you in my mind’s eye always with a book in your hand.” He looked away from her as he said it, but not before she caught the slight flush on his cheekbones. He was so pale, he could never hide even the least blush, she thought — and was surprised how affectionate the thought was.

You love him as a falcon loves his master who binds and blinds it.