...we Die, We Turn, We Are Reborn

Magic Or Nature, They Were Much The Same Thing To Magnus.

Luke Moved As Silently As Fog, While Maryse's Heels Sounded Like Gunshots On The Marble Floor. Clary Wondered If Isabelle's Propensity For Unsuitable Footwear Was Genetic.

It Was Dark In The Alcove, So Dark That Jace Was Only An Outline Of Shadows And Gold. His Body Pinned Clary's To The Wall. His Hands Slid Down Along Her Body And Reached The End Of Her Dress, Drawing It Up Along Her Legs. "what Are You Doing?" She Whispered. "jace?" He Looked At Her. The Peculiar Light In The Club Turned His Eyes An Array Of Fractured Colors. His Smile Was Wicked. "you Can Tell Me To Stop Whenever You Want," He Said. "but You Won't.

Moreover, I Wish To Assure You Both That I Did Not Make Any Amorous Advances On Female Monkeys.

I Think I Gave Alec A Complex About What Kind Of Fighter He Was, Just Because He Wanted To Live.