Jace, Clary thought, was the sort of person who liked it when things were happening, even things that were bad

I can only assume," said Jace, "that mortal emotions amuse you because you have none of your own.

For a split second longer she stood motionless. Then, somehow, she had caught at the front of his shirt and pulled him toward her. His arms went around her, lifting her almost out of her sandals, and then he was kissing her—or she was kissing him, she wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. The feel of his mouth on hers was electric; her hands gripped his arms, pulling him hard against her. The feel of his heart pounding through his shirt made her dizzy with joy. No one else’s heart beat like Jace’s did, or ever could.

In the end that was the choice you made, and it doesn't matter how hard it was to make it. It matters that you did.

Not Magnus himself, who was more of a cross between a panther and a demented elf.

Sebastian never does anything just for fun.” Jace took Clary’s hand and pulled her toward him. “But I do.

You're not going," he said as soon as she'd finished. "If I have to tie you up and sit on you until this insane whim of yours passes, you are not going to Idris." - Jace