Don't order any of the faerie food," said Jace, looking at her over the top of his menu. "It tends to make humans a little crazy. One minute you're munching a faerie plum, the next minute you're running naked down Madison Avenue with antlers on your head. Not," he added hastily, "that this has ever happened to me.

(...)I don't know who I am. I look like Stephen Herondale, and I act like a Lightwood and I talk like my father- like Valentine. So I see myself in your eyes and i try to be that person and I think faith might be enough to make me who you wnat me to be." (Jace, to Clary)

There is a coldness to the Clave, it is true. We are dust and shadows. But you are like the heroes of ancient times, like Achilles and Jason.” “Achilles was murdered with a poisoned arrow, and Jason died alone, killed by his own rotting ship. Such is the fate of heroes; the Angel knows why anyone would want to be one.

It's Simon, he's missing." Ahh." said Magnus delicately "Missing what exactly?" Missing!" Jace repeated "As in gone, absent, notable for his lack of presence, disappeared

I have a feeling you're right, Sherwin.' 'Simon. My name is Simon.

It's the mortal cup Jace, not the mortal toilet bowl.

Light like thin grey soup seeped through the windows. The door opened and Mrs. Dark came in, followed by her sister, who had no head, only the white bone of her spine protruding from her raggedly severed neck.