“Of course I can see you. I'm not blind, you know.Oh, but you are. You just don't know it.”

“She pulled away. "That doesn't make any sense.""Neither does this," he said, "but I don't care. I'm sick of trying to pretend I can live without you. Don't you understand that? Can't you see it's killing me?”

“... In fact, it wouldn't hurt if you just spent the next few days inside. You can lock yourself in your room like Isabelle." "I'm not gonna do that." "Of course your not," said Jace, "because you live to torture me, don't you?" "Not everything, Jace, is about you," Clary said furiously. "Possibly," Jace said, "but you have to admit that the majority of things are." Clary resisted the urge to scream.”

“You know that feeling,” she said, “when you are reading a book, and you know that it is going to be a tragedy; you can feel the cold and darkness coming, see the net drawing tight around the characters who live and breathe on the pages. But you are tied to the story as if being dragged behind a carriage and you cannot let go or turn the course aside.”

“Because you told me you don't have feelings for me anymore, and you see, that's very akward, because I still have them for you. And I bet you know it.”

“What are you thinking?""Just how different everything down there is now, you know, now that I can see.""Everything down there is exactly the same," he said. "You're the one that's different.”

“Honestly, Clary, if you don't start utilizing a bit of your natural feminine superiority I just don't know what I'll do with you.”