“It's like banging my head against the wall, except if I were actually banging my head on a wall, I'd be able to make myself stop.”

“I don't hate you, Jace.""I don't hate you, either."She looked up at him, relieved. "I'm glad to hear that—""I wish I could hate you," he said. His voice was light, his mouth curved in an unconcerned half smile, his eyes sick with misery. "I want to hate you. I try to hate you. It would be so much easier if I did hate you. Sometimes I think I do hate you and then I see you and I—"Her hands had grown numb with their grip on the blanket. "And you what?""What do you think?" Jace shook his head. "Why should I tell you everythingabout how I feel when you never tell me anything? It's like banging my head on awall, except at least if I were banging my head on a wall, I'd be able to make myself stop."Clary's lips were trembling so violently that she found it hard to speak. "Do you think it's easy for me?" she demanded.”

“That you freed a possible criminal by trading away your brother to a warlock who looks like a gay sonic the Hedgehog and dresses like the childcatcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.”

“I can stand.”“It looks to me like you‘re using a wall to prop you up. that’s not my definition of ‘standing.’”“Its leaning,” Jace told him. “Leaning comes right before standing.”

“It's starting to sink in," Corny said. "I can almost look at you without wanting to bang my head against the wall.”

“Clearly the secret of happiness...is a variation on the general principle of banging your head against a wall, and then stopping.”

“He banged on the side of the carriage. "Thomas! We must away at once to the nearest brothel. I seek scandal and low companionship.”