One thing you'll learn as you get older, Simon, is that when people tell you something unpleasant about themselves, it's usually true.

She'd rather hoped for something simple, like a lined piece of notebook paper with MY EVIL PLAN written across the top, but no luck.

My rapier wit hides my inner pain.

Jocelyn recognized reading as a sacred pastime and usually wouldn't interrupt Clary in the middle of a book, even to yell at her.

Then, if you love him," he said quietly, "please, Tessa, don't tell him what I just told you. Don't tell him that I love you.

Our own Sleeping Beauty. Who finally kissed you awake?

Clary: What are you doing here, anyway? Jace: 'Here' as in your bedroom or 'here' as in the great spiritual question of our purpose here on this planet? If you're asking whether it's all just a cosmic coincidence or there's a greater metaethical purpose to life, well, that's a puzzler for the ages. I mean, simple ontological reductionism is clearly a fallacious argument, but- Clary: I'm going to bed.