If You Were Half As Funny As

Simon: 'you Know Men. We Have Delicate Egos.' Clary: 'i Wouldn't Describe Jace's Ego As Delicate.' Simon: 'no, Jace's Is Sort Of The Antiaircraft Artillery Tank Of Male Egos.

Trying To Read His Face. It Was Like A Book Written In A Foreign Language She'd Studied All Too Briefly.

Is He Dead?" He Inquired. "he Looks Dead." "no," Snapped Maryse. "he's Not Dead." "have You Checked? I Could Kick Him If You Want.

You Have A Power Of Incalculable Value. You Need Ask Nothing Of Anyone. You Need Depend On No One. You Are Free, And That Freedom Is A Gift.

She Smiled At Him. “how Did You Know Just What I’d Want To See?” “how Could I Not?” He Said. “when I Think Of You, And You Are Not There, I See You In My Mind’s Eye Always With A Book In Your Hand.” He Looked Away From Her As He Said It, But Not Before She Caught The Slight Flush On His Cheekbones. He Was So Pale, He Could Never Hide Even The Least Blush, She Thought — And Was Surprised How Affectionate The Thought Was.