“Words," he said, "is oh such a twitch-tickling problem to me all my life.”

“Clary," he said. "You saved my life.""I stabbed you. With a massive sword. You caught on fire."His lips twitched imperceptibly. "Okay," he said. "So maybe our problems aren't like other couples.”

“Invisible insects of diabolical activity swarm in this place. I am tickled and twitched all over. Mentally, I have now committed a burglary under the meanest circumstances, and the myrmidons of justice are at my heels.”

“Sure. Whatever. She’s all yours.”Daemon grinned. “That she is.”My hand was twitching to connect with his face. “I am not yours.” A small part of me wanted his to deny my words, though.“Shush it,” he said, walking up to me.“How about I shush it right up you—““Kitten, your language is so unladylike.”

“I remember in treatment, Mr. Shaw told me that the alcohol and drugs never were my problem. He said the alcohol and drugs were my solution and that was my problem. And he was right.”

“Oh my God," he said. "A kind word from Rose Hathaway. I can die a happy man.”