"And when I saw him[my father] lying dead in a pool of his own blood, I knew then that I hadn't stopped believing in God. I'd just stopped believing God cared. There might be a God, Clary, and there might be not. Either way, we're on our own."
"And next time you're planning to injure yourself to get me attention, just remember that a little sweet talk works wonders."
"Words were weapons, his father had taught him that, and he'd wanted to hurt Clary more than he'd ever wanted to hurt any girl. In fact, he wasn't sure he had ever wanted to hurt a girl before. Usually he just wanted them, and then he wanted them to leave him alone."
"Clary felt suddenly annoyed. "When the self-congratulatory part of the evening is over, maybe we could get back to saving my best friend from being exsanguinated to death?""Exsanguinated,"said Jace, impressed. "That's a big word.""And you're a big-""Tsk tsk,"he interupted. "No swearing in church."
"Where there is love, there is often also hate. They can exist side by side."
"It's not gray,"Clary felt compelled to point out. "It's green.""If there was such a thing as terminal literalism, you'd have died in childhood,"said Jace."