If You Wanted To Rip My Clothes

He Was Gazing At Her, The Way One Did When One Felt One Was Unobserved. He Had That Look On His Face, The Look He Usually Got Only When He Was Playing The Violin, As If He Were Completely Caught Up And Entranced.

Trying To Read His Face. It Was Like A Book Written In A Foreign Language She'd Studied All Too Briefly.

Will Moved To Object, But It Was Too Late; Henry Had Already Pressed The Button. There Was A Blinding Flare Of Light And A Whooshing Sound, And The Room Was Plunged Into Blackness. Tessa Gave A Yelp Of Surprise, And Jem Laughed Softly. "am I Blind?" Will's Voice Floated Out Of The Darkness, Tinged With Annoyance. "i'm Not Going To Be At All Pleased If You've Blinded Me, Henry.

Why, Oh Why, Had Jace Picked A Fight With A Pack Of Wolves? What Had Possessed Him? Then Again, It Was Jace. He'd Pick A Fight With A Mack Truck If The Urge Took Him. -clary, Pg.40-

You're Staring At Me," Simon Said. "why Are You Staring At Me? Have I Got Something On My Face?