“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.”

“Jace knew he was being cruel, and he barely cared. Hurting people he loved was almost as good as hurting himself when he was in this kind of mood.”

“The Queen gave him a look: special and secretive and shared between the two of them.You warned her about us, the look seemed to say.That we would hurt her, break her as you might break a twig between your fingers. But you, who thought you could not be touched — you are the one who has been broken.”

“He was gazing at her, the way one did when one felt one was unobserved. He had that look on his face, the look he usually got only when he was playing the violin, as if he were completely caught up and entranced.”

“What they had between them was still as fragile as flickering candle flame, as delicate as eggshell - and he knew that if it shattered, if he somehow let it break and be destroyed, something inside him would shatter too, something that could never be fixed.”

“Simon?”“Yeah?”“Can you tell me a story?”He blinked. “What kind of story?”“Something where the good guys win and the bad guys lose. A nd stay dead.”“So, like a fairy tale?” he said. He racked his brain. He knew only the Disney versions of fairy tales, and the first knew only the Disney versions of fairy tales, and the first image that came to mind was A riel in her seashell bra.He’d had a crush on her when he was eight. Not that this seemed like the time to mention it.“No.” The word was an exhaled breath. “We study fairy tales in school. A lot of that magic is real—but, anyway.No, I want something I haven’t heard yet.”“Okay. I’ve got a good one.” Simon stroked Isabelle’s hair, feeling her lashes flutter against his neck as she closed her eyes. “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”

“He could think of only one reason for her to be there, though it madeno sense after what he'd said to her. Words were weapons, his father hadtaught him that, and he'd wanted to hurt Clary more than he'd ever wanted to hurt any girl. In fact, he wasn't sure he had ever wanted to hurt a girl before. Usually he just wanted them, and then wanted them to leave him alone.”