“You're my brother.""Those words don't mean anything where we're concerned. We aren't human. Their rules don't apply to us. Stupid laws about what DNA can be mixed with what. Hypocritical, really, considering. We're already experiments.”

“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.”

“We're called Shadowhunters. At least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us.""Downworlders?""The Night Children. Warlock. The Fey. The magical folk of this dimension."Clary shook her head. "Don't stop there. I suppose there are also what, vampires and werewolves and zombies?" "Of course there are," Jace informed her. "Although you mostly find zombies farther south, where the voudun priests are.""What about mummies? Do they only hang around Egypt?""Don't be ridiculous. No one believes in mummies.""They don't?""Of course not.”

“We need to talk. All of us About what we're going to do now.""I was going to watch Project Runway.”

“If we're going to the Silent City, you might want to get dressed. I mean, I appreciate the bra-and-panties look, but I don't know if the Silent Brothers will. There are only a few of the left, and I don't want them to die of excitement.”

“The funny thing about mundies is how obsessed with magic they are for a bunch of people who don't even know what the word means.”

“You're a disaster for us, Clary! You're a mundane, you'll always be one, you'll never be a Shadowhunter! You don't know how to think like we do, think about what's best for everyone-- all you think about is yourself! But there's a war now, or there will be, and I don't have time or the inclination to follow around after you, trying to make sure you don't get us killed! Go home, Clary. Go home!”