“Beck, we gotta go.”“Ok.” She made smooch lips to the mirror and then smiled at me. “It's shameful to look this fabulous isn't it?” she said, making me laugh.“Absolutely, just shameful.”

“There is no shame in having been the woman I was. She made me the woman I am.”

“You never laugh," she said. "You behave as if everything is funny to you, but you never laugh. Sometimes you smile when you think no one is paying attention."For a moment he was silent. Then, "You," he said, half reluctantly. "You make me laugh. From the moment you hit me with that bottle.""It was a jug," she said automatically.His lips quirked up at the corners. "Not to mention the way you always correct me. With that funny look on your face when you do it. And the way you shouted at Gabriel Lightwood. And even the way you talked back to de Quincey. You make me..." He broke off, looking at her, and she wondered if she looked the way she felt - stunned and breathless.”

“Isabelle is like a warrior going into battle and she needs… you said yes? You'd really choose an inexperienced squire?" she asked, her voice incredulous.He laughed. "I would."She smiled. "You're lying to me to make me feel better. It's all right. It's working. Now tellme another lie.”

“George, she says it's the truth that matters. We live and die for the chance to maybe tell a little bit of the truth, maybe shame the Devil just a little bit before we go.”

“He shook his head and gave this laugh, a good laugh, and just looked at me. "You always this happy?""No," I said, laughing. "It's you. Every time I see you, I just...I don't know. You make me smile.”