"Yeah, well, you clearly also couldn't be bothered to call me and tell me you were shacking up with some dyed-blond wanna-be goth you probably met at Pandemonium. After I spent the past three days wondering if you were dead." "I was not shacking up," Clary said, glad of the darkness as the blood rushed to her face. "And my hair is naturally blond," said Jace. "Just for the record."

His eyes softened. "But it doesn't change what we are to each other. It's like there's always been a piece of my soul missing, and it's inside you, Clary. I know I told you once that whether God exists or not, we're on our own. But when I'm with you, I'm not.

"A date," Jace repeated. "Often a 'boring thing you have to memorize in history class," but in this case,' 'an offer of a n evening of blisteringly white-hot romance with yours truly.'"

You could dress it up with a sequined headband,” Magnus suggested, offering his boyfriend something blue and sparkly. “Just a thought.” “Resist the urge, Alec.” Simon was sitting on the edge of a low wall with Maia beside him, though she appeared to be deep in conversation with Aline. “You’ll look like Olivia Newton-John in Xanadu.” “There are worse things,” Magnus observed.

But that's what you're doing, isn't it? You're part of the fight just as much as the Shadowhunters on the ship—and I know you can take some of my strength, I've heard of warlocks doing that—so I'm offering. Take it. It's yours.

I’m not unsympathetic. But do you like me? Because this being gay business doesn’t mean you can just throw yourself at any guy and it’ll be fine because he’s not a girl. There are still people you like and people you don’t.

My favorite jacket is an emergency item. Much like myself, it is both snuggly and fashionable.