“There are some kinds of wounds you can get, internal injuries. You don't know what's wrong with you, but you're bleeding to death slowly inside.”

“You're my sister," he said finally. "My sister, my blood, my family. I should want to protect you"—he laughed soundlessly without any humor—"to protect you from the sort of boys who want to do with you exactly what I want to do."Clary's breath caught. "You said you just wanted to be my brother from now on.""I lied," he said. "Demons lie, Clary. You know, there are some kinds of wounds you can get when you're a Shadowhunter—internal injuries from demon poison. You don't even know what's wrong with you, but you're bleeding to death slowly inside. That's what it's like, just being your brother.""But Aline—""I had to try. And I did." His voice was lifeless. "But God knows, I don't want anyone but you. I don't even want to want anyone but you." He reached out, trailed his fingers lightly through her hair, fingertips brushing her cheek. "Now at least I know why."Clary's voice had sunk to a whisper. "I don't want anyone but you, either.”

“I have three words for you," EMT Guy said. "Possible internal bleeding."I turned back to him. "Don't you think if I was bleeding internally, I'd know somewhere deep inside? Like, internally?”

“Nobody can judge an internal injury by the size of the superficial wound.”

“There are two kinds of courage. There's the kind you get from knowing that what you're doing is right. And there's the kind you get from knowing its hopeless and wrong, and just not giving a damn.”

“Nobody can judge an internal injury," he had said, "by the size of the superficial wound, of the hole.”