“Goodness, real goodness, has it's own sort of cruelty to it.”

“A sort of good-bye without saying good-bye," he said. "It is a reference to a passage in the Bible. 'And Mizpah, for he said, the Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent one from another.”

“Memories did one no good, not when one knew the truth in the present. Will was beautiful, but he was not hers; he was anybody's. Something in him was broken, and trough that break spilled a blind cruelty, a need to hurt and to push away.”

“Faeries are fallen angels," said Dorothea, "cast down out of heaven for their pride.""That's the legend," Jace said. "It's also said that they're the offspring of demons and angels, which always seemed more likely to me. Good and evil, mixing together. Faeries are as beautiful as angels are supposed to be, but they have a lot of mischief and cruelty in them. And you'll notice most of them avoid midday sunlight—""For the devil has no power," said Dorothea softly, as if she were reciting an old rhyme, "except in the dark.”

“Every heart has its own melody.”

“Mizpah," he said.She blinked at him, a little dazed. "What?""A sort of good-bye without saying good-bye," he said. "It is a reference to a passage in the Bible. 'And Mizpah, for he said, the Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent one from another.”

“Every heart has its own melody," he said. "You know mine.”