We needn't talk about Tessa if you don't want to, you know." "It's not Tessa." This was true. Will hadn't been thinking of Tessa. He was getting good at not thinking about her, really; all it took was determination and practice.

The first one is always the hardest," he said. "The first?" "The first one you love who dies," he said. "It gets easier, after.

His eyes shone when he looked at her, green as spring grass. He has always had green eyes, said the voice in her head. People often marvel at how much alike you are, he and your mother and yourself. His name is Jonathan and he is your brother; he has always protected you. Somewhere in the back of Clary’s mind she saw black eyes and whip marks, but she didn’t know why. He’s your brother. He’s your brother, and he’s always taken care of you.

Ladies who were no better than they should be, whose dresses were too tight, too bright and too all the things Magnus liked most, lounged on velvet-covered benches along the walls.

Perfect heroines, like perfect heroes, aren't relatable, and if you can't put yourself in the protagonist's shoes, not only will they not inspire you, but the book will be pretty boring.

Isabelle was holding an umbrella. It was clear plastic, decorated with decals of colorful flowers. It was one of the girliest things Simon had ever seen, and he didn’t blame Alec for ducking out from under it and taking his chances with the rain.

I can trust you, Jessie, but you're clearly not well enough to go. Which is unfortunate, since Aloysius always had a weakness for a pretty face." "Even more reason why I should go," said Will.