She Was Glad She Had Been Scarred.

Aren't You, Uh..." Clary Searched For The Right Word. "reproducing?

As Magnus Turned To Walk Away From The Church, He Heard The Sound Of Violin Music Carried To Him On The Cloudy London Air, And Remembered Another Night, A Night Of Ghosts And Snow And Christmas Music, And Will Standing On The Steps Of The Institute, Watching Magnus As He Went.

You Like The Party?" "is It In Honor Of Anything?" "my Cat's Birthday." "oh." She Glanced Around. "where's Your Cat?" "i Dont Know. He Ran Away." -magnus & Clary, Pg.221-

You May Be The Only Guy My Age I've Ever Met Who Knows What Bergamot Is, Much Less That It's In Earl Grey Tea." "yes, Well," Jace Said, With A Supercilious Look, "i'm Not Like Other Guys. Besides," He Added, Flipping A Book Off The Shelf, "at The Institute We Have To Take Classes In Basic Medicinal Uses For Plants. It's Required." "i Figured All Your Classes Were Stuff Like Slaughter 101 And Beheading For Beginners." Jace Flipped A Page. "very Funny, Fray.

This Time Clary Concentrated, Trying To Focus Her Mind On Simon-the Simon-ness Of Him, The Shape Of The Way He Thought, The Feeling Of Hearing His Voice, The Sence Of Him Close. His Whispers, His Secrets, The Way He Made Her Laugh. 'so', She Thought Conversationally, 'now That I'm In Your Mind, Wnat To See Some Naked Mental Pictures Of Jace?' Simon Jumped. "i Heard That! And, No.