“He knew Alec enough by now to know the conflicting impulses that warred in him. He was conscientious, the kind of person who believed that the others around him were so much more important than he was, who already believed he was letting everybody down. And he was honest, the kind of person that was naturally open about all he felt and wanted. Alec’s virtues had made a trap for him; these two good qualities had collided painfully. He felt he could not be honest without disappointing everyone he loved. It was a hideous conundrum for him. It was as if the world had been designed to make him unhappy.”

“She supposed they were imperfections, those marks, but they didn’t feel that way to her; they were a history, cut into his body: the map of a life of endless war.”

“And when I saw him[my father] lying dead in a pool of his own blood, I knew then that I hadn’t stopped believing in God. I’d just stopped believing God cared. There might be a God, Clary, and there might be not. Either way, we’re on our own.”

“If there were such a thing as terminal literalism, you’d have died in childhood.”

“When you love someone, you don’t have a choice. Love takes your choices away.- Clary Fray”

“What’s this?” he demanded, looking from Clary to his companions, as if they might know what she was doing there.”It’s a girl,” Jace said,recovering his composure. “Surely you’ve seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one.”

“And now I’m looking at you,” he said, “and you’re asking me if I still want you, as if I could stop loving you. As if I would want to give up the thing that makes me stronger than anything else ever has. I never dared give much of myself to anyone before – bits of myself to the Lightwoods, to Isabelle and Alec, but it took years to do it – but, Clary, since the first time I saw you, I have belonged to you completely. I still do. If you want me.”