“Maryse sighed."Nothing conclusive.If only the dead could talk,eh,Lucian?”

“Is he dead?" he inquired. "He looks dead." "No," snapped Maryse. "He's not dead." "Have you checked? I could kick him if you want.”

“Magnus sighed. "Alexander, I've been alive for hundreds of years. I've been with men, been with women - with faeries and warlocks and vampires, and even a djinn or two." He looked sideways at Maryse, who looked mildly horrified. "Too much information?”

“I'm a werewolf, not a golden retriever." (Luke/Lucian)”

“Something snapped inside Maryse. “He is not a Herondale. He is a Lightwood. Jace Lightwood. He’s my son.”

“It was like a bad movie except he didn’t actually twirl his mustache.”-Jace to Maryse about Valentine, pg.122-”

“Luke moved as silently as fog, while Maryse's heels sounded like gunshots on the marble floor. Clary wondered if Isabelle's propensity for unsuitable footwear was genetic.”