There Were Some Feelings You Never Forgot.

And Quit Baring Your Fangs At Me. It's Making Me Nervous." "good," Simon Said. "if You Want To Know Why, It's Because You Smell Like Blood." "it's My Cologne. Eau De Recent Injury." Jace Raised His Left Hand.

I Can Only Assume," Said Jace, "that Mortal Emotions Amuse You Because You Have None Of Your Own.

Jace Snorted So Loudly That She Turned On Him With A Frown. He Wiggled His Mud-caked Fingers At Her. His Nails Were Black Crescents. "filthy Inside And Out.

Clary, You're An Artist, Like Your Mother. That Means You See The World In Ways That Other People Don't. It's Your Gift, To See The Beauty And The Horror In Ordinary Things. It Doesn't Make You Crazy — Just Different. There's Nothing Wrong With Being Different.

It Is Hard To Think Of Something As A Gift When You Have Been Tormented And Imprisoned For It.