Don’t order any of the faerie food,” said Jace, looking at her over the top of his menu. “It tends to make humans a little crazy. One minute you’re munching a faerie plum, the next minute you’re running naked down Madison Avenue with antlers on your head. Not,” he added hastily, “that this has ever happened to me.
Have you fallen in love with the wrong person yet?’ Jace said, “Unfortunately, Lady of the Haven, my one true love remains myself.” …”At least,” she said, “you don’t have to worry about rejection, Jace Wayland.” “Not necessarily. I turn myself down occasionally, just to keep it interesting.
Just because you call an electric eel a rubber duck doesn’t make it a rubber duck, does it? And God help the poor bastard who decides they want to take a bath with the duckie. (Jace Wayland)
The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he’d learned: that to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.
Can I help you with something?” Clary turned instant traitor against her gender. “Those girls on the other side of the car are staring at you.” Jace assumed an air of mellow gratification. “Of course they are,” he said, “I am stunningly attractive.
Magnus, standing by the door, snapped his fingers impatiently. “Move it along, teenagers. The only person who gets to canoodle in my bedroom is my magnificent self.” “Canoodle?” repeated Clary, never having heard the word before. “Magnificent?” repeated Jace, who was just being nasty. Magnus growled. The growl sounded like “Get out.
The meek may inherit the earth, but at the moment it belongs to the conceited. Like me.
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