“Make pizza, not war. No matter how you slice it, that’s wise.”

“Luke opened the pizza box and, finding it empty, shut it with a sigh."Though you did eat allthe pizza." "I only had five slices," Simon protested, leaning his chair backward so itbalanced precariously onits two back legs. "How many slices did you think were in a pizza, dork?" Clary wanted toknow. "Less than five slices isn't a meal. It's a snack." Simon looked apprehensively at Luke. "Does thismean you're going towolf out and eat me?”

“Though you did eat all the pizza.""I only had five slices," Simon protested, leaning his chair backward so it balanced precariously on its two back legs."How many slices did you think were in a pizza, dork?" Clary wanted to know."Less than five slices isn't a meal. It's a snack." Simon looked apprehensively at Luke. "Does this mean you're going to wolf out and eat me?""Certainly not." Luke rose to toss the pizza box into the trash. "You would be stringy and hard to digest.”

“No matter how thin you slice it, there will always be two sides.”

“Pizza is circular. So is an hour. I’ll take two slices—to go.”

“When I was a boy I used to love pizza, and whenever my father took me to the pizzeria I'd order two slices. And I'd sit and he'd watch me wolfing down the first slice with my eyes on the second. I wasn't even tasting that first slice. And one day my father said to me, "Son, you need to learn that while you're eating the first slice of pizza, eat the first slice. Because right now you're eating the second slice before you've finished the first.”