A Patient, Methodical Sort Of Madman. The

Clary Didn't Ask What That Was. She Was Busy Trying Not To Fall Over. The Ground Was Heaving Up And Down Under Her Feet. "jace," She Said, And Crumpled Into Him. He Caught Her As If He Were Used To Catching Fainting Girls, As If He Did It Every Day. Maybe He Did.

His Beauty Did Not Blaze Like Will's Did In Fierce Colors And Repressed Fire, But It Had Its Own Muted Perfection, The Loveliness Of Snow Falling Against A Silver Gray Sky.

You Can’t Just Keep Grabbing At Me Every Time You See Me. It’s Not A Substitute For Actually Talking.

You Left Me. You Made A Pet Out Of Me, And Then You Left Me. If Love Were Food, I Would Have Starved On The Bones You Gave Me.

I’d Rather Have You In My Life Even As A Brother Than Not At All—