“The Amoeba?" she asked Aiden."The gang," he said, tossing his hand to indicate all around. "Mypeople. A large amorphous mass that keeps on changing size, hasn'tmuch apparent use, sometimes makes you sick, and occasionally breaksoff into smaller parts that act exactly like the parent.”

“She tapped her foot. “Sometimes I swear you’re your father except with lady parts. You act exactly like him!” -Gram to Sophie”

“Sometimes, the things They say, the laws They make, the way the world spins doesn't make any sense at all...Which is exactly why you have to ask "Why?" and keep on asking until you get the TRUTH...”

“Simon?" she asked. "I have a stupid question.""What is it?""Did you sleep with Isabelle?"Simon made a choking sound. Clary swiveled slowly around to look at him."Are you okay?" she asked."I think so," he said, recovering his poise with apparent effort. "Are you serious?""Well, you were gone all night.”

“Oh, its big enough,” he said patronizingly, “but somehow I was expecting…you know.” He gestured with his hands, indicating something roughly the size of a house cat.“It’s the Mortal Cup, Jace, not the Mortal Toilet Bowl,” said Isabelle.-Jace & Isabelle, pg.349-”

“Now in those days, my brothers, the teaming up was mostly by fours and fives, these being like auto-teams, for being a comfy number for an auto, and six being the outside limit for gang-size. Sometimes gangs would gang up so as to make like malenky armies for big nightwar, but mostly it was best to roam in these like small numbers.”