“Dear God, woman,"said Will. "Are there any questions you don't want to know the answer to?”
“I hate it when you answer a question with a question.""No you don't, you think it's charming.”
“But God knows, I don't want anyone but you. I don't even want to want anyone but you.”
“She shrugged. "All right. Are you going to come back? Do you want any soup?""No," said Jace."Do you think Hodge will want any soup?"No one wants any soup.""I want some soup," Simon said."No, you don't," said Jace. "You just want to sleep with Isabelle."Simon was appalled. "That is not true.""How flattering," Isabelle murmured into the soup, but she was smirking.”
“Do you want any soup?""No," said Jace."Do you think Hodge will want any soup?""No one wants any soup.""I want some soup," Simon said."No you dont," said Jace. "You just want to sleep with Isabelle.”
“You're my sister," he said finally. "My sister, my blood, my family. I should want to protect you"—he laughed soundlessly without any humor—"to protect you from the sort of boys who want to do with you exactly what I want to do."Clary's breath caught. "You said you just wanted to be my brother from now on.""I lied," he said. "Demons lie, Clary. You know, there are some kinds of wounds you can get when you're a Shadowhunter—internal injuries from demon poison. You don't even know what's wrong with you, but you're bleeding to death slowly inside. That's what it's like, just being your brother.""But Aline—""I had to try. And I did." His voice was lifeless. "But God knows, I don't want anyone but you. I don't even want to want anyone but you." He reached out, trailed his fingers lightly through her hair, fingertips brushing her cheek. "Now at least I know why."Clary's voice had sunk to a whisper. "I don't want anyone but you, either.”
“Tessa exploded "I am not asking you to maul me in the Whispering Gallery! By the Angel, Will, would you stop being so polite?!"He looked at her in amazement. "But wouldn't you rather-""I would not rather. I don't want you to be polite! I want you to be Will! I don't want you to indicate points of architectural interest to me as if you were a Baedecker guide! I want you to say dreadfully mad, funny things, and make up songs and be-" The Will I fell in love with, she almost said. "And be Will," she finished instead. "Or I shall strike you with my umbrella.""I am trying to court you," Will said in exasperation. "Court you properly. That's what all this has been about. You know that, don't you?""Mr. Rochester never courted Jane Eyre," Tessa pointed out."No, he dressed up as a woman and terrified the poor girl out of her wits. Is that what you want?""You would make a very ugly woman.""I would not. I would be stunning."Tessa laughed. "There," she said. "There is Will. Isn't that better? Don't you think so?""I don't know," Will said, eyeing her. I'm afraid to answer that. I've heard that when I speak, it makes American women wish to strike me with umbrellas."Tessa laughed again, and then they were both laughing, their smothered giggles bouncing off the walls of the Whispering Gallery. After that, things were decidedly easier between them, and Will's smile when he helped her down from the carriage on their return home, was bright and real.”