They’re not hideous,” said Tessa. Will blinked at her. “What?” “Gideon and Gabriel,” said Tessa. “They’re really quite good-looking, not hideous at all.” “I spoke,” said Will, in sepulchral tones, “of the pitch-black inner depths of their souls.” Tessa snorted. “And what color do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?” “Mauve,” said Will.
Cassandra ClareAnd what colour do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?' 'Mauve,' said Will.
Cassandra ClareIn the end that was the choice you made, and it doesn't matter how hard it was to make it. It matters that you did.
Cassandra ClareBlack for hunting through the night For death and sorrow, the color’s white Gold for a bride in her wedding gown, And red to call enchantment down.
Cassandra ClareBut Clary never found out what it wasn't, because there was a cry of "Jace!" and Alec appeared, breathless from pushing his way through the crowd to get them. His dark hair was a mess and there was blood on his clothes, but his eyes were bright with a mixture of relief and anger. He grabbed Jace by the front of his jacket. "What happened to you?" Jace looked affronted. "What happened to me?" Alec looked at him, not lightly. "You said you were going for a walk! What kind of walk takes six hours?" "A long one?" Jace suggested.
Cassandra Clare