Only Jace, Clary thought, could look cool in pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt, but he pulled it off, probably through sheer force of will. -pg. 329-

Drowning yourself won't help, she told herself sternly. Now, drowning Will, on the other hand.

Regret is such a pointless emotion, don't you agree?

It was a bit warm. Still. If one could look this fabulous, one had an obligation to. One should wear everything, or one should wear nothing at all.

Henry patted Charlotte’s shoulder anxiously. “Would you like a cool cloth? What can I do to help?” “You could ride up to Yorkshire and chop that old goat’s head off.” Charlotte sounded mutinous. “Won’t that make things rather awkward with the Clave?” asked Henry. “They’re not generally very receptive about, you know, beheadings and things.

I didn't know," he said. "I didn't know you needed me." Her voice shook. "I always need you

Magnus, you were trying to flirt with your own plate." "I'm a very open-minded sort of fellow!