Jace said that the cast of Gilligan's Island could do something anatomically unlikely with themselves.
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Every teenager in the world feels like that, feels broken or out of place, different somehow, royalty mistakenly born into a family of peasants. The difference in your case is that it's true.
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Everything that happens to you matters to me.
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As long as we're together, I'm ready for anything.
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Yes, she's bleeding to death upstairs, but I thought I'd avoid telling you right away, because I like to draw the suspense out.
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Aren't they supposed to be hiring someone else to train me, ANYWAY?"
"Yes," he said, getting up and pulling her to her feet with him. "and I'm worried that if you get into the habit of making out with your instructors, you'll wind up making out with him, too."
"Don't be sexist. They could find me a female instructor."
"In that case you have my permission to make out with her, as long as I can watch."
"Nice." Clary grinned, bending down to fold up the blanket they'd brought to sit on. "You're just worried they'll hire a male instructor and he'll be hotter than you."
Jace's eyebrows went up. "Hotter than ME?"
"It could happen," Clary said. "You know, theoretically."
"Theoretically the planet can crack in half, leaving me on one side and you on the other side, forever and tragically parted, but I'm not worried about that, either. Some things," Jace said, with his customary crooked smile, "are just too unlikely to dwell upon.
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Simon's band never actually produced any music. Mostly they sat around in Simon's living room, fighting about potential names and band logos. She sometimes wondered if any of them could actually play an instrument. 'What's on the table?'
'We're choosing between Sea Vegetable Conspiracy and Rock Solid Panda.'
Clary shook her head. 'Those are both terrible.'
'Eric suggested Lawn Chair Crisis.'
'Maybe Eric should stick to gaming.'
'But then we'd have to find a new drummer.'
'Oh, is that what Eric does?...
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When you told me the first time that Valentine was your father, I didn't believe it. Not just because I didn't want it to be true, but because you weren't anything like him. I've never thought you're anything like him. But you are. You are.
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I’ll tell them,” she said. “I’ll tell them it was my fault.”
He looked at her, gold eyes incredulous. “You can’t lie to them.”
“I’m not. I brought you back,” she said. “You were dead, and I brought you back. I upset the balance, not you. I opened the door for Lilith and her stupid ritual. I could have asked for anything, and I asked for you.” She tightened her grip on his shirt, her fingers white with cold and pressure. “And I would do it again. I love you, Jace Wayland—Herondale—Lightwood—whatever you want to call yourself. I don’t care. I love you and I wil always love you, and pretending it could be any other way is just a waste of time.
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Simon!" Clary shouted, and seized his arm.
"What?" Simon looked alarmed.
"I'm not really sleeping with your mom, you know. I was just trying to get your attention. Not that your mom isn't a very attractive woman, for her age.
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