Aren't You, Uh..." Clary Searched

She Had Taken Him For Granted, She Thought With Surprise And Shame, Watching The Flickering Candlelight. She Had Assumed His Kindness Was So Natural And So Innate, She Had Never Asked Herself Whether It Cost Him Any Effort. Any Effort To Stand Between Will And The World, Protecting Each Of Them From The Other. Any Effort To Accept The Loss Of His Family With Equanimity. Any Effort To Remain Cheerful And Calm In The Face Of His Own Dying.

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.

Magnus Stood Up And Went To The Window. He Pushed The Curtain Back, Letting In Just Enough Light To Silhouette His Hawklike Profile. "blood," He Said, Half To Himself. "i Had A Dream Two Nights Ago. I Saw A City All Of Blood, With Towers Made Of Bone, And Blood Ran In The Streets Like Water." Simon Slewed His Eyes Over To Jace. "is Standing By The Window Muttering About Blood Something He Does All The Time?" "no," Said Jace, "sometimes He Sits On The Couch And Does It.

Pulvis Et Umbra Sumsu." ~ Horace, Odes ("we Are Dust And Shadows")

It's A Coffee Cup." She Could Hear The Irritation In Her Own Voice. "i Know It's A Coffee Cup." "i Can't Wait Till You Draw Something Really Complicated, Like The Brooklyn Bridge Or A Lobster. You'll Probably Send Me A Singing Telegram.