I would write light entertainment nonfiction pieces during the day, then come home and work on my fantasy fiction. It was very difficult to get out of the one mindset and into another one.

The Queen sniffed. "I rather miss your Jace," she said. "Of all of you, he was the prettiest and the best-mannered.

Will had laid down his heart for her and Jem to walk upon because he loved them more than he loved himself

What are all these?" Clary asked. "Vials of holy water, blessed knives, steel and silver blades," Jace said, piling the weapons on the floor beside him, "electrum wire - not much use at the moment but it's always good to have spares - silver bullets, charms of protetion, crucifixes, stars of David-" "Jesus," said Clary "I doubt he'd fit." "Jace." Clary was appalled.

The meek may inherit the earth, but at the moment it belongs to the conceited. Like me.

There is more to life than surviving.

There is no cure for fictional character love, but the plus side is that it is an entirely benign disease with no bad side effects.