Have A Little Faith In

It Was Dark In The Alcove, So Dark That Jace Was Only An Outline Of Shadows And Gold. His Body Pinned Clary's To The Wall. His Hands Slid Down Along Her Body And Reached The End Of Her Dress, Drawing It Up Along Her Legs. "what Are You Doing?" She Whispered. "jace?" He Looked At Her. The Peculiar Light In The Club Turned His Eyes An Array Of Fractured Colors. His Smile Was Wicked. "you Can Tell Me To Stop Whenever You Want," He Said. "but You Won't.

Go To Faeries For Gossip About Vampires, To Werewolves For Gossip About Faeries, And Do Not Gossip About Werewolves, Because They Try To Bite Your Face Off: That Was Magnus's Motto.

It Isn't Against The Law To Be An Idiot.

Appearances Are Significant, And Never More Than In Politics. You Can Always Sway The Crowd, Provided You Have A Good Story.

Love Takes Your Choices Away.