to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.

He seemed only ... annoyed. Annoyed, and sweaty, and hot. "Yeah, well," he said, "the next time you decide to sneak out of our magically warded apartment through a door that shouldn't really exist, leave a note.

There's no need to clarify my finger snap," said Magnus. "The implication was clear in the snap itself.

Tessa had begun to tremble. This is what she had always wanted someone to say. What she had always, in the darkest corner of her heart, wanted Will to say. Will, the boy who loved the same books she did, the same poetry she did, who made her laugh even when she was furious. And here he was standing in front of her, telling her he loved the words of her heart, the shape of her soul. Telling her something she had never imagined anyone would ever tell her. Telling her something she would never be told again, not in this way. And not by him. And it did not matter. "It's too late", she said.

Meanwhile,” Simon added, “I wanted to tell you that lately I‘ve been cross-dressing. Also, I‘m sleeping with your mom. I thought you should know.

What are you? The voice came from nowhere. It was in the room. It was outside. It was in Magnus's head. "A warlock," Magnus answered. "And what are you?" We are many. "Please do not say you are a legion. Someone's taken that." Do you make mirth from mundane scriptures, warlock? "Just breaking the ice

He's my neophyte Downworlder to mock and boss around, not yours.