Not your parabatai any longer.

Lips. There was something strangely, delicately indelicate about the word, like a kiss itself.

And then you'd turn to me and smile that funny smile, and I know you'd forgotten all about me and just remembered -- but I was never mad at you. Half of your attention is better than all of anyone else's.

I tell so many lies, sweetheart," he said. "which one specifically?

It is the mundanes who look at me and see something they do not understand—a boy who is not quite white and not quite foreign either." "Just as I am not human, and not demon either," Tessa said softly. His eyes softened. "You are human," he said. "Never think you are not. I have seen you with your brother; I know how you care for him. If you can feel hope, guilt, sorrow, love—then you are human.

Oooh, that was fun." "That does it," said Jace. "I'm going to get you a dictionary for Christmas this year." "Why?" Isabelle said. "So you can look up 'fun.' I'm not sure you know what it means." Isabelle pulled the long heavy mass of her wet hair forward and wrung it out as if it were wet washing. "You're raining on my parade." "It's a pretty wet parade already, if you hadn't noticed." Jace glanced around.

Anything?" She laughed. "Like what kind of anything did you want?" "Well, when I was five, I wanted to take a bath in spaghetti." -Clary & Jace, pg.310-