“What have you done to my cat?" Magnus demanded... "You drank his blood, didn't you? You said you weren't hungry!"Simon was indignant. "I did not drink his blood. He's fine!" He poked the Chairman in the stomach. The cat yawned. "Second, you asked me if I was hungry when you were ordering pizza, so I said no, because I can't eat pizza. I was being polite.""That doesn't get you the right to eat my cat.""Your cat is fine!" Simon reached to pick up the tabby, who jumped indignantly to his feet and stalked off the table. "See?""Whatever.”

“The first morning Simon had been at Amatis's house, a grinning lycanthrope had showed up on the doorstep with a live cat for him. "Blood," he'd said, in a heavily accented voice. "For you. Fresh!"Simon had thanked the werewolf, waited from him to leave, and let the cat go, his expression faintly green."We'll you're going to have to get your blood from somewhere," said Luke, looking amused."I have a pet cat," Simon replied. "There's no way.”

“Was it weird hearing from Jace?" asked Simon, his voice carefully neutral. "I mean, since you found out..."His voice trailed off.Yes?"said Clary, her voice sharply edged. "Since I found out what? That he's a killer transvestite who molests cats?"No wonder that cat of his hates everyone."Oh, shut up, Simon," Clary said crossly.”

“Green-eyed monsters,” said Magnus, and grinned. He deposited Chairman Meow on the ground, and the cat moved over to Alec, and rubbed against his leg. “The Chairman likes you.”“Is that good?”“I never date anyone my cat doesn’t like,” Magnus said easily, and stood up. “So let’s say Friday night?”A great wave of relief came over Alec. “Really? You want to go out with me?”Magnus shook his head. “You have to stop playing hard to get, Alexander. It makes things difficult.” He grinned.”

“Magnus's eyes went back to Alec. They were gold-green, as unreadable as the eyes of the cat he held on his lap. "Not my favorite topic, Smedley.""Simon", said Simon. "If I'm going to die for you all, the least you could do is remember my name.”

“On his deathbed, my grandpa told me three things to remember for after he died. First he said, "You can't own a cat. Ever." Second he told me, "Friendly boys make friendly friends." Finally he said, "You were adopted, just like your father before you, and his father before him." "So," I said, "you were adopted?" "Of course not!" he replied. "Your father's not my son, just like he's not your father." And to this day I am still confused. I have no idea why I can't own a cat.”