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.
I am a man” he told her, “and men do not consume pink beverages. Get thee gone woman, and bring me something brown.
Is this the part where you say if I hurt her, you’ll kill me?” “No” Simon said, “If you hurt Clary she’s quite capable of killing you herself. Possibly with a variety of weapons.
Is this the part where you start tearing off strips of your shirt to bind my wounds?” “If you wanted me to rip my clothes off, you should have just asked.
Is standing by the window muttering about blood something he does all the time?” asked Simon. “No,” Jace said. “Sometimes he sits on the couch and does it.
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.
Jace shook his blond head in exasperation. “You had to make a crazy jail friend, didn’t you? You couldn’t just count ceiling tiles or tame a pet mouse like normal prisoners do?
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