What about Isabelle?" Simon asked. "Where is she?" The humor, such as it was, left Jace's expression. "She won't come out of her room," he said. "She thinks that what happened to Max was her fault. She won't even come to the funeral." "Have you tried talking to her?" "No," Jace said, "we've been punching her repeatedly in the face instead. Why, do you think that won't work?" "Just thought I'd ask." Simon's tone was mild.
Cassandra ClareVampires bore a grudge longer than any technically living creatures, and whenever they were in a bad temper, they expressed themselves through murder.
Cassandra ClareNo," said Simon. "I know we're not much compared to you, but we don't kill our friends. We try to save them. If Heaven didn't want it that way, we ought to have been given the ability to love." He shoved his hair back, baring the Mark more fully. "No, you don't need to help me. But if you don't, there's nothing stopping me from calling you up again and again, now that I know you can't kill me. Think of it as me leaning on you Heavenly doorbell... forever.
Cassandra ClareWe are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.
Cassandra ClareThank you,โ Simon said. โItโs a joke, Isabelle. Heโs the Count. He likes counting. You know. โWhat did the Count eat today, children? One chocolate chip cookie, two chocolate chip cookies, three chocolate chip cookies . . .โโ There was a rush of cold air as the door of the restaurant opened, letting in another customer. Isabelle shivered and reached for her black silk scarf. โItโs not realistic.โ โWhat would you prefer? โWhat did the Count eat today, children? One helpless villager, two helpless villagers, three helpless villagers . . .
Cassandra Clare