Clary closed her eyes. Remembering the way Jace had looked at her the night she'd freed Ithuriel, she couldn't help but imagine the way he'd look at her now if he saw her trying to lie down to die on the sand beside him. He wouldn't be touched, wouldn't think it was a beautiful gesture. He'd be angry at her for giving up. He'd be so--disappointed.

A sarcastic blond genie with a bad attitude. -Clary, pg.243-

Not specifically. "Demons have been on Earth as long as we have. They're all over the world, in their different forms – Greek daemons, Persian daevas, Hindu asuras, Japanese oni. Most belief systems have some method of incorporating both their existence and the fight against them. Shadowhunters cleave to no single religion, and in turn all religions assist us in our battle. I could as easily have gone for help to a Jewish synagogue or a Shinto temple, or – Ah. Here it is.

We live forever by the grace of human love, which rocked strange children in their cradles and did not despair and did not turn away.

I’m really grateful to you for saving us, Maia, and Jace is too, even though he’s so stubborn that he’d rather jam a seraph blade through his eyeball than say so. And don’t you say you hope he does,” she added hastily, seeing the look on the other girl’s face, “because that’s really not helpful.

Maryse sighed."Nothing conclusive.If only the dead could talk,eh,Lucian?

I always thought love made you stupid. Made you weak. A bad Shadowhunter. 'To love is to destroy.'I believed that[...]I used to think being a good warrior meant not caring,[...] And then I met you. You were a mundane. Weak. Not a fighter. Never trained[...] Love didn't make you weak, it made you stronger than anyone I'd ever met. And I realized I was the one who was weak.