Simon: 'You know men. We have delicate egos.' Clary: 'I wouldn't describe Jace's ego as delicate.' Simon: 'No, Jace's is sort of the antiaircraft artillery tank of male egos.

We need to talk. All of us About what we're going to do now." "I was going to watch Project Runway.

As the carriage whipped forward, they passed the alley she had spent so many days staring at—it was there, and then gone as they careened around a corner, nearly knocking over a costermonger pushing a donkey cart piled high with new potatoes. Tessa screamed. Will reached past her and yanked the curtain shut. "It's better if you don't look," he told her pleasantly. "He's going to kill someone. Or get us killed." "No, he won't. Thomas is an excellent driver." Tessa glared at him. "Clearly the word excellent means something else on this side of the Atlantic.

I've always been happy with you," he said. "But I never thought I deserved it." "And now you do?" "And now the feeling's gone," he said. "All I know is that I love you and for the first time, that's good enough.

Well, she's not responding to my advances," he observed more brightly than he felt, "so she must be dead." "Or she's a woman of good taste and sense.

Alec had his arms around Magnus and was kissing him, full on the mouth. Magnus, who appeared to be in a state of shock, stood frozen.

She could ask for anything, she thought dizzily, anything--an end to pain or world hunger or disease, or for peace on earth. But then again, perhaps these things weren't in the power of angels to grant, or they would already have been granted. And perhaps people were supposed to find these things for themselves.