Don't panic, but we've got an audience." Clary turned her head. Perched on a nearby tree branch was Hugo, watching them beadily from bright black eyes. So the sound she'd heard had been wings rather than demented passion. That was disappointing.

Alec looked merely irritated by this comment. "The only way you could raise enough money to hire Magnus by selling lemonade is if you put meth in it.

Was this what it meant to love someone? That any burden was a burden shared, that they could give you comfort with a word or a touch?

I've got a stele we can use. Who wants to do me?" "A regrettable choice of words," muttered Magnus.

I believe in good and evil," said Jem. "And I believe the soul is eternal. But I don't believe in the fiery pit, the pitchforks, or endless torment. I do not believe you can threaten people into goodness." Tessa looked at will. "What about you? What do you believe? "Pulvis et umbra sumus," said Will, not looking at her as he spoke. "I believe we are dust and shadows. What else is there?

The meek may inherit the earth, but at the moment it belongs to the conceited. Like me.

Seeing through glamour is easy. It's people that are hard.