“My dad is here," She hissed, hoping to give Gabriel enough of a head start so he could make it to the elevators before Tom took out one of his hunting rifles and shot him."I know, I called him."She turned to Gabriel in wide-eyed disbelief. "Why would you do that? He wants to kill you."The Professor pulled himself up to his full height. "I want to marry you. That means that I need to make amends with your father. I want to be able to be in the same room without him attempting to shoot me. Or castrate me.”

“You really want to go out to dinner?" Gabriel shot Rase a skeptical look out of the corner of his eye. "As opposed to what?" "Getting on your knees and begging me to beat you." There was no inflection in Gabriel's voice, no heat, and no emotion at all. He wasn't even looking at Rase. ... "I don't want one more than the other," he answered, fully aware that he was being challenged. "They're not interchangeable. I want them both." Rase took a breath to calm the pounding in his chest and continued, even though Gabriel wouldn't look at him. "I want to go out to dinner with you, anywhere you want, on a date. And then I want to go back to your place or my place and I want you to beat me until I bleed.”

“If you want me to fix your homework, you need to leave me alone.” Then he spotted her. “You’re back.”“Yeah.” She glanced between him and Gabriel. “You do his homework?”“Just the math. It’s a miracle he can count to ten.”“I can count to one.” Gabriel gave him the finger.”

“Ah,' she says. 'But I know where your heart was. I know where it still is. And so do you.'He's gone,' I say. I lock the canvas into a hoop and hand it back to her. 'Here.'Then you must find him,' she says. 'You'll never stop loving him, you know. He'll never really be gone. My Gabriel is still here.'Your Gabriel?'Yes, my Gabriel. My husband.'You mean Lawrence,' I say. Lawrence, her husband who disappeared in a storm over thirty years ago.I mean my Gabriel. Everyone has one.' Ada takes my hand it puts it over her chest. 'Eva, my heart is ancient. But it still beats for him. Only for him.'I look into Ada's glistening eyes. She is telling the truth.You must find him.'I know that she is right.(Anxious Hearts)”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kath protested, getting to her feet. Keath was telling her how to kill him.“I just need you to know.” Keath got to his feet too. He reached out and up his hands firmly on her shoulders, looking into her eyes. She wanted to look away but she couldn’t. There was something in Keath’s eyes. He was afraid of something, something he didn't want to tell her, as though he didn't want to scare her anymore.“I want to know that if it I need to be stopped,” Keath continued. “You will be able to stop me. Just promise me that you will, Kathleen.”

“Father . . . ," Gabriel began. "Father is a worm."Will gave a short laugh. He was in gear as if he had just come from the practice room, and his hair curled damply against his temples. He was not looking at Tessa, but she had grown used to that. Will hardly ever looked at her unless he had to. "It's good to see you've come round to our view of things, Gabriel, but this is an unusual way of announcing it."Gideon shot Will a reproachful look before turning back to his brother. "What do you mean, Gabriel? What did Father do?"Gabriel shook his head. "He's a worm," he said again, tonelessly."I know. He has brought shame on the name of Lightwood, and lied to both of us. He shamed and destroyed our mother. But we need not be like him."Gabriel pulled away from his brother's grip, his teeth suddenly flashing in an angry scowl. "You're not listening to me," he said. "He's a worm. A worm. A bloody great serpentlike thing. Since Mortmain stopped sending the medicine, he's been getting worse. Changing. Those sores upon his arms, they started to cover him. His hands, his neck, h-his face . . ." Gabriel's green eyes sought Will. "It was the pox, wasn't it? You know all about it, don't you? Aren't you some sort of expert?" "Well, you needn't act as if I invented it," said Will. "Just because I believed it existed. There are accounts of it—old stories in the library—”