The thing about the Mirror is that no one knows where it is. In fact, no one knows what it is.โ "Itโs a mirror,โ Simon said. โYou know โ reflective, glass. Iโm just assuming.
Cassandra ClareHe wants her in his bedroom. And not in that way โ no girl has ever been in his bedroom that way. It is his private space, his sanctuary. But he wants Clary there. He wants her to see him, the reality of him, not the image he shows the world. He wants to lie down on the bed with her and have her curl into him. He wants to hold her as she breathes softly through the night; to see her as no one else sees her: vulnerable and asleep. To see her and to be seen.
Cassandra ClareSimon: So were you following me? Or is it just an amazing coincidence that you happened to be on the roof of a building I was walking by when I got attacked? Jace: I was following you. Simon: Is this the part where you tell me you're secretly in love with me?
Cassandra ClareIf you're really tired, I could put you to sleep," he said. "Tell you a bedtime story." She looked at him. "Are you serious?" "I'm always serious
Cassandra ClareHe cut her off with brutal precision. "And one last thing." His eyes flicked toward the door, through which Jace, Alec, and Isabelle had disappeared. "Keep in mind that when your mother fled from the Shadow World, it wasn't the monsters she was hiding from. Not the warlocks, the wolf-men, the Fair Folk, not even the demons themselves. It was them. It was the Shadowhunters.
Cassandra Clare