It's like banging my head against the wall, except if I were actually banging my head on a wall, I'd be able to make myself stop.

I have a suggestion," said Valentine to Luke, in a surprisingly even tone. "Let me guess," said Luke. "It's 'Don't kill me,' isn't it?

She opened her mouth to answer, but he was already kissing her. She had kissed him so many times—soft gentle kisses, hard and desperate ones, brief brushes of the lips that said good-bye, and kisses that seemed to go on for hours—and this was no different. The way the memory of someone who had once lived in a house might linger even after they were gone, like a sort of psychic imprint, her body remembered Jace. Remembered the way he tasted, the slant of his mouth over hers, his scars under her fingers, the shape of his body under her hands.

Everyone has choices to make; no one has the right to take those choices away from us. Not even out of love.

When Will truly wants something,” said Jem, quietly, “when he feels something — he can break your heart.

Magnus called me and asked me to come and see you. He tried to reach you, but he couldn’t. He wants you to put him in touch with the Praetor Lupus.” “Put him in touch with…” Jordan shook his head. “You can’t just call the Praetor. It’s not like 1-800-WEREWOLF.

Lord, you're Irish," said Will. "Can you make things that don't have potatoes in them? We had an Irish cook once when I was a boy. Potato pie, potato custard, potatoes with potato sauce.