Cassandra Clare

e. "Thomas! We must away at once to the nearest brothel! I seek scandal and low companionship."

His steady gaze held hers. His blue eyes were very dark, uniquely so. She had known people before with blue eyes, but they had always been light blue. Will’s were the color of the sky just on the edge of night.

“Sometimes,” Jem said, “our lives can change so fast that the change outpaces our minds and hearts. It’s those times, I think, when our lives have altered but we still long for the time before everything was altered—that is when we feel the greatest pain. I can tell you, though, from experience, you grow accustomed to it. You learn to live your new life, and you can’t imagine, or even really remember, how things were before.”

“That’s not necessary,” said Jace. “I can keep a perfectly good eye on Simon, thank you. He’s my neophyte Downworlder to mock and boss around, not yours.”

"If you were half as funny as you thought you were, my boy, you'd be twice as funny as you are."

I knew then that I hadn't stopped believing in God. I'd just stopped believing God cared. There might be a God, Clary, and there might not, but I don't think it matters. Either way, we're on our own.

"You know, when most girls say they want a big rock, they don't mean, you know, literally a big rock."

That sounds terrific, thought Clary. Just you, your comatose wife, your shell-shocked son, and your daughter who hates your guts. Not to mention that your two kids may be in love with each other. Yeah, that sounds like a perfect family reunion.

Humans were so stupid. They had something so precious, and they barely safeguarded it at all.

You’re not gay, are you?”

Simon’s greenish color deepened. “If I were, I would dress better.”