I recall what you said to me once, that words have the power to change us. Your words have changed me, Tess; they have made me a better man than I wo… - Cassandra Clare

Life is a book and there are a thousand pages I have not yet read.

It was hard not to laugh. Determination like that in a ten-year-old is something to see. He was like a pit bull."
"If pit bulls wore glasses and were allergic to ragweed.

Oh, for goodness' sake, is he really waking us up at this ungodly hour just to prove his love to you or something?

"Jace?"
"Yeah?"
"How did you know I had Shadowhunter blood? Was there some way you could tell?"
The elevator arrived with a final groan. Jace unlatched the gate and slid it open. The inside reminded Clary of a birdcage, all black metal and decorative bits of gilt. "I guessed," he said, latching the door behind them. "It seemed like the most likely explanation."
"You guessed? You must have been pretty sure, considering you could have killed me."
He pressed a button in the wall, and the elevator lurched into action with a vibrating groan that she felt all through the bones in her feet. "I was ninety percent sure."
"I see," Clary said.
There must have been something in her voice, because he turned to look at her. Her hand cracked across his face, a slap that rocked him back on his heels. He put a hand to his cheek, more in surprise than pain. "What the hell was that for?"
The other ten percent," she said, and they rode the rest of the way down to the street in silence."