“What sort of party is this?" Lucy asks, staring at a group of guys who look like they walked off the set of Prison Break."The fun kind," Leo says. "Go have some. We'll find you after I talk to my brother.""The fun kind?" Lucy shouts to Jazz. "I'm pretty sure I saw that guy over there on 'Crime Stoppers' last week." She's right. She did.”

“Stalking?” Brad made a face, drawing back as if he’d been asked to host a Pampered Chef party. “I didn’t say anything about stalking. All I want you to do is stick close to her and check out who she talks to… see where she goes… maybe find out what kind of guys are approaching her. That sort of thing. Then report it all back to me.”

“You're not having sex with him. I know these guys, and you don't. I'm trusting you with Claudia Reeshman. You need to trust me about Dean Robillard." She wouldn't let him off that easily. "You're looking for a wife. Maybe I'm just looking for a little fun." "If you need fun," he shot back, 'I'll give you fun." She was stunned.”

“Once I saw Paris Hilton leaving a restaurant in Hollywood and the paparazzi cameras were all over her. It looked so unpleasant. It wasn't because she didn't look sensational - she was that perfect combination of fashionable and slutty - it was because the paparazzi guys were shouting these insanely rude and intrusive questions at her. Like, asking her who she was sleeping with and stuff. I was kind of interested in the answer, so I was glad they asked, but it was still gross.”

“I know what you said! My mother would never have belonged to something like that. Some kind of-some kind of hate group.""It wasn't-," Jace began, but Hodge cut him off."I doubt," he said slowly, as if the words pained him, "that she had much choice."Clary stared. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't she have had a choice?""Because," said Hodge, "she was Valentine's wife.”

“...and Lucy." She looked like she might cry.'What about her?'"Lucy smells like food." She nearly gagged saying it.'Sol, all that's normal. Lucy smelled good before I turned, and now she smells even better. But I haven't tried to eat her face and neither will you.'"She's not safe in this house."'Safer than out there,' I argued, even though I agreed with her. 'Look, you used to eat hamburgers.'She blinked, confused. "So?"'So, did you ever walk through one of the farms at a field party and suddenly try to eat a cow?'"Um, no." Her chuckle was watery but it was better than nothing. "And, ew."'Exactly. You can crave blood and not eat your best friend.”