the action we take in the name of love,those are moral or immoral.and normally it wouldn't matter

There must always be a first," said Jem. "It is not easy to be first, and it is not always rewarding, but it is important.

Despite the heat in her face, it felt as if cold needles of ice were running up and down her veins. "What are you doing here?" He drew back slightly, looking disappointed. "That isn't really an answer to my question, you know. I was expecting more of a "Hallelujah Chorus.' I mean, it's not every day your boyfriend comes back from the dead." "I already knew you weren't dead." She spoke through numb lips. "I saw you in the library. With--" "Colonel Mustard?" "Sebastian.

i told you he'd freak out, she siad. didn't i? ah, the i told you so, jace said. always a classy move

What's wrong, little sis? You look upset." She could barely catch her breath. "Cracked...my...nail polish slapping your... worthless face. See?" She showed him her finger - just one of them. "Cute" He snorted.

She had never thought about her name much before, but when he said it, it was as if she were hearing it for the first time - the hard T, the caress of the double S, the way it seemed to end on a breath.

She'd been impressed by his looks at first--those sharply planed cheekbones and those black, fathomless eyes--but his affable, sympathetic personality grated on her now. She didn't like boys who looked as if they never got mad about anything. In Isabelle's world, rage equaled passion equaled a good time.