My Favorite Jacket Is An Emergency Item.

Love And Lies Can Corrupt Even The Purest Heart.

He Seemed To Realize She Was Staring At Him, Because The Cursing Stopped. "you Cut Me," He Said. His Voice Was Pleasant. British. Very Ordinary. He Looked At His Hand With Critcal Interest. "it Might Be Fatal." Tessa Looked At Him With Wide Eyes. "are You The Magister?" He Tilted His Hand To The Side. Blood Ran Down It, Spattering The Floor. "dear Me, Massive Blood Loss. Death Could Be Imminent.

My Shoulder Will Never Be The Same. I Expect You To Nurse Me Back To Health." - City Of Bones (said By Jace Wayland)

The Dark Prince Sat Astride His Black Steed, His Sable Cape Flowing Behind Him. A Golden Circlet Bound His Blond Locks, His Handsome Face Was Cold With The Rage Of Battle, And... "and His Arm Looked Like An Eggplant," Clary Muttered To Herself In Exasperation.

Wo Wei Ni Xie De,” He Said, As He Raised The Violin To His Left Shoulder, Tucking It Under His Chin. He Had Told Her Many Violinists Used A Shoulder Rest, But He Did Not: There Was A Slight Mark On The Side Of His Throat, Like A Permanent Bruise, Where The Violin Rested. “you — Made Something For Me?” Tessa Asked. “i Wrote Something For You,” He Corrected, With A Smile, And Began To Play.