It's Too Late," She Said.

Kissing Simon Was Pleasant. It Was A Gentle Sort Of Pleasant, Like Lying In A Hammock On A Summer Day With A Book And A Glass Of Lemonade

She'd Always Had Such Contempt For Mundanes, The Way All Shadowhunters Did--she'd Believed That They Were Soft, Stupid, Sheeplike In Their Complacency. Now She Wondered If All That Hatred Didn't Just Stem From The Fact That She Was Jealous. It Must Be Nice Not Worrying That Every Time One Of Your Family Members Walked Out The Door, They'd Never Come Back.

I'm Not Sure That's Such A Great Idea." Luke Said. "it's A Fabulous Idea." Jace Dropped The Paper Back Onto The Table, And Began To Slide Off His Jacket. "i've Got A Stele We Can Use. Who Wants To Do Me?" "a Regrettable Choice Of Words," Magnus Muttered.

What's This?" "that's A Mango." Simon Stared At Jace. Sometimes It Really Is Like Shadowhunters Were From An Alien Planet. "i Don't Think I've Seen One Of Those That Wasn't Already Cut Up," Jace Mused. "i Like Mangoes." Simon Grabbed The Mango And Tossed It Into The Cart. "great. What Else Do You Like?" Jace Pondered For A Moment. "tomato Soup," He Said Finally. "tomato Soup? You Want Tomato Soup And A Mango For Dinner?" Jace Shrugged. "i Don't Really Care About Food.

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.