How can you tell? That I like books, I mean.The look on your... - Cassandra Clare, City of Bones
"How can you tell? That I like books, I mean.The look on your face when you walked in, somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me."
"How can you tell? That I like books, I mean.The look on your face when you walked in, somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me."
"The meek may inherit the earth, but at the moment it belongs to the conceited. Like me."
"What are all these?"Clary asked."Vials of holy water, blessed knives, steel and silver blades,"Jace said, piling the weapons on the floor beside him, "electrum wire - not much use at the moment but it's always good to have spares - silver bullets, charms of protetion, crucifixes, stars of David-""Jesus,"said Clary"I doubt he'd fit.""Jace."Clary was appalled."
"Can I help you with something?"Clary turned instant traitor against her gender. "Those girls on the other side of the car are staring at you."Jace assumed an air of mellow gratification. "Of course they are,"he said, "I am stunningly attractive."
"If there were such a thing as terminal literalism, you'd have died in childhood."
"You guessed? You must have been pretty sure, considering you could have killed me.""I was ninety percent sure.""I see,"Clary said. There must have been something in her voice, because he turned to look at her. Her hand cracked across his face, a slap that rocked him back on his heels. He put his hands on his cheek, more in surprise than pain."What the hell was that for?""The other ten percent."