All that existed was Jace; all she felt, hoped, breathed, wanted, and saw was Jace. Nothing else mattered.

But God knows, I don't want anyone but you. I don't even want to want anyone but you.

The more that you travel the more you get the sense of the word as a larger place and the more you get a sense of the variety of history and mythology. And when you know about these things you can incorporate them into what I feel is a more rich and more large tapestry of fantasy.

All Lightwoods look the same to me—

Well, she's not responding to my advances," he observed more brightly than he felt, "so she must be dead." "Or she's a woman of good taste and sense.

By the Angel," Jace said, looking the demon up and down. "I knew Greater Demons were meant to be ugly, but no one ever warned me about the smell." Abbadon opened its mouth and hissed. Inside its mouth were two rows of jagged glass-sharp teeth. "I'm not sure about this wind and howling darkness business," Jace went on, "smells more like landfill to me. You sure you're not from Staten Island?

I'll walk you back, Jace said. "As for Simon, he can manage his own way back in the dark-can't you Simon?" "Of course he can, Alec said indignantly, as if eager to make up for his earlier slighting of Simon. "He's a vampire-and," he added, "I just realized that you were probably joking. Never mind me.