“We are one now, little brother, you and I," Sebastian said. "We are one.”

“He taught me there's a place on a man's back where, if you sink a blade in, you can pierce his heart and sever his spine, all at once,' Sebastian had said. 'I guess we got the same birthday present that year, big brother,' Jace thought. 'Didn't we?”

“I don't care what you think. You're not my brother," Clary said. "You're a murderer.""I really don't see how those things cancel each other out," said Sebastian.”

“I'm here," she said, skidding to a stop. "Can we go now?" Sebastian insisted on helping her on with the coat. "I don't think anyone's ever helped me with my coat before," Clary observed, freeing the hair that had gotten trapped under her collar. "Well, maybe waiters. Were you ever a waiter?" "No, but I was brought up by a Frenchwoman," Sebastian reminded her. "It involves an even more rigorous course of training.”

“Maybe he's lonely. Sebastian can't be the greatest company.""We don't know that. He could be absolutely fantastic at Scrabble," said Magnus.”

“I could point out that that's not a dress, that's underwear, but I doubt it would be in my best interest." "Need I remind you," said Sebastian, "That that is my sister?" "Most brother's would be delighted to see such a clean-cut gentleman as myself squiring their sister's about town.”

“I need Jace,” said Sebastian. “But in his heart, he’s not like me. But you are.”