By the time Alec came back into the training room, Jace was lying on the floor, envisioning lines of dancing girls in an effort to ignore the pain in his wrists. It wasn’t working. ~pg. 317~

I feel myself dissolving, vanishing into nothingness, for if there is no one in the world who cares for you, do you really exist at all?

It's your gift, to see the beauty and the horror in ordinary things. It doesn't make you crazy, just different.

When one steals a flying balloon and animates it to fly over Paris, one should, ideally, have some idea how said balloon normally works.

But maybe you never really had someone, she thought now. Maybe, no matter how much you loved them, they could slip through your fingers like water, and there was nothing you could do about it.

And maybe it would have bitten you in half," said Will. "What you are describing, the transformation into a demon, is the last stage of the pox." "Will!" Charlotte threw up her hands. "Why didn't you say so?" "You know, the books on demon pox are in the library," Will said with an injured tone. "I wasn't preventing anyone from reading them." "Yes, but if Benedict was going to turn into an enormous serpent, you'd think you could at least have mentioned it," said Charlotte. "As a matter of general interest.

I didn't get this dressed up to watch you mess around in the gutter with a bunch of motorcycles." "They are pretty to look at," said Jace. "You have to admit that." "So am I," said Isabelle.