“speech to him was a task, a battle, words mustered behind his beard and issued one at a time, heavy and square like tanks.”

“Xav bounded out behind him. “Yeah, Phee equals You-She squared. I’ve been working on that one: like it?”

“I’ll wait for you. Come back.The words were not meaningless, but they didn’t touch him now.It was clear enough - one person waiting for another was like an arithmetical sum, and just as empty of emotion.Waiting.Simply one person doing nothing, over time, while another approached. Waiting was a heavy word.”

“Running to catch up, feeling like he was in a constant state of chasing a shadow, he felt a drop of rain hit him square on the back of the neck. The weight of it so heavy it felt like a rock.”

“His speech failed to rouse an enthusiastic cheer, but no one dared contradict him.”

“The dark prince sat astride his black steed, his sable cape flowing behind him. A golden circlet bound his blond locks, his handsome face was cold with the rage of battle, and..."And his arm looked like an eggplant," Clary muttered to herself in exasperation.”