Clary wondered what exactly peanut-fish-olive-tomato soup tasted like.

All that running and getting nowhere, he thought. Story of my life.

Unless there was a reason for me to stay.

You bled on the Speaking stars ...I bet there's a law somewhere about that.

Wear that scarf," he said, pointing to a blue cashmere scarf hanging on a peg. "It matches your eyes." Alec looked at it. Suddenly he was filled with hate - for the scarf, for Magnus, and most of all for himself. "Don't tell me," he said. "The scarf's a hundred years old, and it was given to you by Queen Victoria right before she died, for special services to the Crown or something." Magnus sat up. "What's gotten into you?" Alec stared at him. "Am I the newest thing in this apartment?" "I think that honor goes to Chairman Meow. He's only two." "I said newest, not youngest," Alec snapped.

Not everything Jace did was insane and suicidal, she reminded herself. It just seemed that way. -Clary, pg.46-

How many times have I told you, Magnus? Behave professionaly in a professional setting. Which means no being rude to Nephilim, and also no getting attached to Nephilim." "I never get attached to Nephilim!" Magnus protested. Ragnor coughed, and in the midst of the cough said something that sounded like "blerondale." "Well," said Magnus. "Hardly ever.