The grandeur of the Institute never failed to impress Magnus - the way it towered high and mighty above everything else, timeless and unmoving in its Gothic disapproval of all that was modern and changeable.

I'm pure at heart. It repels the dirt.

Clary felt suddenly annoyed. "When the self-congratulatory part of the evening is over, maybe we could get back to saving my best friend from being exsanguinated to death?" "Exsanguinated," said Jace, impressed. "That's a big word." "And you're a big-" "Tsk tsk," he interupted. "No swearing in church.

You’re my sister,” he said finally. “My sister, my blood, my family. I should want to protect you”—he laughed soundlessly and without any humor—“to protect you from the sort of boys who want to do with you exactly what I want to do.

Do you remember what I told you that first time at Taki's? About faerie food?" "I remember you said you ran down Madison Avenue naked with antlers on your head", said Clary, blinking silver drops off her lashes.

People were intrinsically selfish, and many hated the idea of a woman in charge of the Institute. They would not put themselves at risk for her. Only a few weeks ago he would have said the same thing about himself. Now, knowing Charlotte, he realized to his surprise, the idea of risking himself for her seemed an honor, as it would be to most Englishmen to risk themselves for the queen.

Is your inner vampire different from your...outer vampire?" "Definitely. He wants me to wear midriff-baring shirts and a fedora." "So your inner vampire is Magnus?