There are some people—people the universe seems to have singled out for special destinies. Special favors and special torments. God knows we're all drawn toward what's beautiful and broken; I have been, but some people cannot be fixed. Or if they can be; its only by love and sacrifice so great that it destroys the giver.

Will: "Nice place to live, isn't it? Let's hope they left something behind other than filth. Forwarding addresses, a few severed limbs, a prostitute or two ..." Jem: "Indeed. Perhaps, if we're fortunate, we can still catch syphilis." "Or demon pox," Will suggested cheerfully, trying the door under the stairs.

Bloodthirsty little beasts. Never trust a duck.- William Herondale

The way Magnus’ breath had sounded, rattling in his chest, before he’d said his father’s name.

You don't need to worry, though. He's not my type." "I don't think I've ever heard a girl say that before," said Simon. "I thought Jace was the kind of guy who was everyone's type.

Cucumber and bergamot," Clary said. "Is there anything else you hate that I ought to know about?" Jace looked at Dorothea over the rim of his teacup. "Liars," he said.

Aline: "He's cute, for a Downworlder" Sebastian: "You'll have to forgive her; she has the face of an angel and the manners of a Moloch demon