You May Choose Your Friends, But Not

Don't Make It Sound Like That. Like Some Ordinary Sort Of Grief. It's Not Like That. They Say Time Heals All Wounds, But That Presumes The Source Of The Grief Is Finite. Over. This Is A Fresh Wound Every Day.

And The Gold Of Her Ruined Wedding Dress.

Tessa Exhaled. She Hadn't Realized That She Had Been Holding Her Breath Until That Moment. Will Must Have Heard Her, For He Raised His Head And His Gaze Met Hers Across The Clearing. Something In It Made Her Look Away. Agony Stripped So Raw Was Not Meant For Her Eyes.

Only Jace, Clary Thought, Could Look Cool In Pajama Bottoms And An Old T-shirt, But He Pulled It Off, Probably Through Sheer Force Of Will. -pg. 329-

Catching Sight Of Himself In The Long Mirrors That Ran Along The Walls, He Stiffened In Shock...his Eyes Were Surrounded By Black Shadows, His Shirt Smeared With Dried Blood And Filthy Mud... "admiring Yourself?" The Inquisitor's Voice Cut Through His Reverie. "you Won't Look So Pretty When The Clave Gets Through With You." "you Do Seem Obsessed With My Look...could It Be That You're Attracted To Me?" "don't Be Revolting...you Could Be My Son.