There's Plenty Of Sense In Nonsense Sometimes,

That Seems Like Stealing, Doesn't It?" Simon Pulled A Cup Toward Him. He Drew The Lid Back. "ooh. Mochaccino." He Looked At Magnus. "did You Pay For These?" "sure," Said Magnus, While Jace And Alec Snickered. "i Make Dollar Bills Magically Appear In Their Cash Register." "really?" "no." Magnus Popped The Lid Off His Own Coffee. "but You Can Pretend I Did If It Makes You Feel Better. So, First Order Of Business Is What?

I Wish I Could Hate You," He Said. His Voice Was Light, His Mouth Curved In An Unconcerned Half Smile, His Eyes Sick With Misery. "i Want To Hate You. I Try To Hate You. It Would Be So Much Easier If I Did Hate You. Sometimes I Do Hate You And Then I See You And I.

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

But I Think It Has To Do With What You Believe About Yourself. If You Believe You're Damned, Then You Are. But If You Don't...

I Love You Clary. More Then I Ever-- God. More Than I Probably Should. You Know That, Don't You?