This Is Bad," Said Jace.

I Keep Thinking About Blood, I Dream About It. Wake Up Thinking About It. Pretty Soon I'll Be Writing Morbid Emo Poetry About It.

Clockwork Prince Pg. 298 "though Rather Despite Myself, I Thought Him A Pretty Bit Of Poison To Start With, But I Have Come Around. There Is A Soul Under All That Bravado. And He Is Really Alive, One Of The Most Alive People I Have Ever Met. When He Feels Something, It Is As Bright And Sharp As Lightning.

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained.

She Opened Her Mouth To Answer, But He Was Already Kissing Her. She Had Kissed Him So Many Times—soft Gentle Kisses, Hard And Desperate Ones, Brief Brushes Of The Lips That Said Good-bye, And Kisses That Seemed To Go On For Hours—and This Was No Different. The Way The Memory Of Someone Who Had Once Lived In A House Might Linger Even After They Were Gone, Like A Sort Of Psychic Imprint, Her Body Remembered Jace. Remembered The Way He Tasted, The Slant Of His Mouth Over Hers, His Scars Under Her Fingers, The Shape Of His Body Under Her Hands.

The Horse Grunted Softly. He Had Huge Teeth, Clary Noticed Uneasily; Each One The Size Of A Pez Dispenser. She Imagined Those Teeth Sinking Into Her Leg And Thought Of All The Girls She'd Known In Middle School Who'd Wanted Ponies Of Their Own. She Wondered If They Were Insane.