The melody rolled over her, as cool and sweet as water, as hopeful and lovely as sunrise.

His beauty did not blaze like Will's did in fierce colors and repressed fire, but it had its own muted perfection, the loveliness of snow falling against a silver gray sky.

[...] He tasted like snowflakes and wine, like winter and Will and London.

To love is to destroy, to destroy is to love. -Jace Herondale

Malachi scowled. "I don't remember the Clave inviting you into the Glass City, Magnus Bane." "They didn't," Magnus said. "Your wards are down." "Really?" the Consul's voice dripped sarcasm. "I hadn't noticed." Magnus looked concerned. "That's terrible. Someone should have told you." He glanced at Luke. "Tell him the wards are down.

Alec muttered a retort into his coffee. It rhymed with something that sounded a lot more like "ducking glass mole.

Marry me," he said. "Marry me, Tess. Marry me and be Tessa Herondale. Or be Tessa Gray, or be whatever you wish to call yourself, but marry me and stay with me and never leave me, for I cannot bear another day of my life to go by that does not have you in it.