And Lo And Behold, My Diabolical Plan

Demons Feed On Death And Pain Madness," Valentine Said. "when I Kill, It Is Because I Must. You Grew Up In A Falsely Beautiful Paradise Surrounded By Fragile Glass Walls, My Daughter. Your Mother Created The World She Wanted To Live In And She Brought You Up In It, But She Never Told You It Was An Illusion. And All The Time The Demons Waited With Their Weapons Of Blood And Terror To Smash The Glass And Pull You Free Of The Lie.

"yeah, Well, You Clearly Also Couldn't Be Bothered To Call Me And Tell Me You Were Shacking Up With Some Dyed-blond Wanna-be Goth You Probably Met At Pandemonium. After I Spent The Past Three Days Wondering If You Were Dead." "i Was Not Shacking Up," Clary Said, Glad Of The Darkness As The Blood Rushed To Her Face. "and My Hair Is Naturally Blond," Said Jace. "just For The Record."

He Felt His Heart, Which No Longer Beat, Contract, And He Wondered If There Was Anything In The World As Painful As Not Being Able To Protect The People You Loved.

Because In The End Nothing Is Worse Than Seeing The Fall Of One You Loved. It Was Somehow Worse Than Losing A Love. It Made Everything Seem Questionable. It Made The Past Bitter And Confused.

You Stole A Boat,” She Snapped. “what Am I Doing With You, You Boat-stealing Lunatic?