We're called Shadowhunters. At least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us.

I'm not sure there's such thing a thing as a normal life.

Well,” Tessa said, sighting along the line of the knife, “you behave as if you dislike me. In fact, you behave as if you dislike us all.” “I don’t,” Gabriel said. “I just dislike him.” He pointed at Will. “Dear me,” said Will, and he took another bite of his apple. “Is it because I’m better-looking than you?

Tessa knows Will,” protested Charlotte. “She trusts Will.” “Iwouldn’t go that far,” muttered Tessa.

She had thought she was going to save her mother, and now there was going to be nothing for her to do but sit by her mother's bedside, hold her limp hand, and home someone else, somewhere else, would be able to do what she couldn't.

I've got the Mark of Cain," said Simon. "That means nothing can kill me, right?" "You can kill yourself," Magnus said, somewhat unhelpfully. "As far as I know, inanimate objects can accidentally kill you. So if you were planning on teaching yourself the lambada on a greased platform over a pit full of knives, I wouldn't." "There goes my Saturday.

Clockwork Prince pg. 298 "Though rather despite myself, I thought him a pretty bit of poison to start with, but I have come around. There is a soul under all that bravado. And he is really alive, one of the most alive people I have ever met. When he feels something, it is as bright and sharp as lightning.