“Oh, do you have A Tale of Two Cities?""That silly thing? Men going around getting their heads chopped off for love? Ridiculus." Will unpeeled himself from the door and made his way toward Tessa where she stood by the bookshelves. He gestured expansively at the vast number of volumes all around him. "No, here you'll find all sorts of advice about how to chop off someone else's head if you need to; much more useful.”

“...trained in self-defense.' Tessa looked sideways at Jem in astonishment. 'He means me?' Jem nodded. His expression was sombre. 'I can't - I'll chop off my own foot!''If you're going to chop off anyone's foot, chop off Benedict's,' Will muttered.”

“I dont know," said Simon, "it doesn't sound so bad to me. I'd rather have someone mess around inside my head than chop it off.""Then you're a bigger idiot than you look.”

“Before Tessa could answer, there was a knock at the door, and a familiar voice. "It's Jem. Tessa, are you there?"Charlotte sat bolt upright. "Oh! He mustn't see you in your dress!"Tessa stood dumbfounded. "Whyever not?""It's a Shadowhunter custom—bad luck!" Charlotte rose to her feet. "Quickly! Hide behind the wardrobe!""The wardrobe? But—" Tessa broke off with a yelp as Charlotte seized her about the waist and frog-marched her behind the wardrobe like a policeman with a particularly resistant criminal. Released, Tessa dusted off her dress and made a face at Charlotte, and they both peeked around the side of the furniture as the seamstress, after a bewildered look, opened the door.Jem's silvery head appeared in the gap. He looked a bit disheveled, his jacket askew. He glanced around in puzzlement before his gaze lighted on Charlotte and Tessa, half-concealed behind the wardrobe.”

“I can't - I'll chop off my own foot!" "If you're going to chop off anyone's foot, chop off Benedict's," Will muttered.”

“What were you dreaming about?""You." He twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. "I always dream about you.""Oh, yeah? Because I thought you were having a nightmare."He tipped his head back to look at her. "Sometimes I dream you're gone," he said. "I keep wondering when you'll figure out how much better you could do and leave me.”

“No." Magnus strode toward him. "I didn't call you because I'm tired of you only wanting me around when you need something. I'm tired of watching you be in love with someone else-someone, incidentally, who will never love you back. Not the way I do.”