It was only recently that Isabelle had realized other girls weren’t just for envying, avoiding, or disliking.

It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but it was all there was.

Hey Baby. Baby? You're kidding me, right? I was trying it out. No? No.

Medium clever,” Simon acknowledged. “Like a cross between George Clooney in Ocean’s Eleven and those MythBusters guys, but, you know, better-looking.” “I’m always so glad I have no idea what you’re vacantly chattering about,” said Jace. “It fills me with a sense of peace and well-being.

The thing about the Mirror is that no one knows where it is. In fact, no one knows what it is.” "It’s a mirror,” Simon said. “You know – reflective, glass. I’m just assuming.

Okayyyyy,” Isabelle said in a low voice, “When did Brother Zachariah get hot?

But it was Valentine. I saw him. In fact, he had the Sword with him when he came down to the cells and taunted me through the bars. It was like a bad movie, except he didn't actually twirl his mustache. - Jace Wayland