Some Laws Were Meant To Be Broken.

Bright Star,” Magnus Said, And His Eyes Were Thoughtful, As If He Were Remembering Something, Or Someone. “those Of You Who Are Mortal, You Burn So Fiercely. And You Fiercer Than Most, Will. I Will Not Ever Forget You.”.

Vampires, Fey Folk, Werewolves, Shadowhunters, And Demons - These Things Made Sense To Magnus. But The Mundane World - It Seemed To Have No Pattern, No Form. Their Quicksilver Politics. Their Short Lives.

He's A Cousin Of Some Friends Of The Lightwoods Or Something. He's Nice. I Promise." "nice, Bah. He's Gorgeous." Magnus Gazed Dreamily In His Direction. "you Should Leave Him Here. I Could Hang Hats On Him And Things." "no. You Can't Have Him." "why Not? Do You Like Him?" Magnus's Eyes Gleamed. "he Seems To Like You. I Saw Him Going For Your Hand Out There Like A Squirrel Diving For A Peanut.

Sometimes," Said Will, "they're Even Supposed To Blow Up.

Your Friend's Poetry Is Terrible," He Said. Clary Blinked, Caught Momentarily Off Guard. "what?" "i Said His Poetry Was Terrible. It Sounds Like He Ate A Dictionary And Started Vomiting Up Words At Random.