“Each of the dancers took a partner, the living with the dead, each to each. Bod reached out his hand and found himself touching fingers with, and gazing into the grey eyes of, the lady in the cobweb dress. She smiled at him.“Hello, Bod,” she said.“Hello,” he said, as he danced with her. “I don’t know your name.”“Names aren’t really important,” she said.“I love your horse. He’s so big! I never knew horses could be that big.”“He is gentle enough to bear the mightiest of you away on his broad back, and strong enough for the smallest of you as well.”“Can I ride him?” asked Bod.“One day,” she told him, and her cobweb skirts shimmered. “One day. Everybody does.”“Promise?”I promise.”

“How old are you?" said the girl. "What are you doing here? Do you live here? What's your name?" "I don't know," said Bod. "You don't know your name?" said the girl. "Course you do. Everybody knows their own name. Fibber." "I know my name," said Bod. "And I know what I'm doing here. But I don't know the other things you said.”

“What is your name?" she asked."Names are like clothes, lady. I have many.""And which one do you wear tonight?"The god smiled. She could see he liked her words. He pulled her to him, pressed his wolf lips to hers and said, "My name is Misery, and would you know yet more?""Yes," said the girl, breathing in his scent, the scent of something beautiful, strange and burned. "I would know more."He flicked at her lips with his tongue and whispered, "So is yours.”

“I just want you, Trevor,” she said, knowing nothing else mattered as long as she had him. “You have me, sweetheart,” he said, pulling away just far enough so that he could look into her eyes. “I promise you will always have me.”

“You’re alive," she whispered. "Really alive."With a slow wonderment he reached to touch her face. "I was in the dark," he said softly. "There was nothing there but shadows, and I was a shadow, and I knew that I was dead, and that it was over, all of it. And then I heard your voice. I heard you say my name, and it brought me back." "Not me." Clary’s throat tightened. "The Angel brought you back." "Because you asked him to." Silently he traced the outline of her face with his fingers, as if reassuring himself that she was real. "You could have had anything else in the world, and you asked for me." She smiled up at him. Filthy as he was, covered in blood and dirt, he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. "But I don’t want anything else in the world.”

“I love you, Jason. You have no idea how much I love you – she said. She wanted to add how she knew the shape of each of his fingernails, how she could know exactly which of his fingers was caressing her back, which fingertip was resting on her face. His every touch occupied her heart and increased her passion. She was never hiding that from him. That’s why she repeated – I love you.”