"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 not, but I don't think it matters. Either way we're on our own."
"That sounds terrific, thought Cary, just you, your comatose wife your shell-shocked son, and your daughter who hates your guts. Not to mention that your two kids may be in love with each other. Yeah, that sounds like a perfect family reunion."
"Going round and around inside a dryer can be fatal, whereas pasta is rarely fatal. Unless Isabelle makes it."
"What's this?"he demanded, looking from Clary to his companions, as if they might know what she was doing there."It's a girl,"Jace said,recovering his composure. "Surely you've seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one."
"Jace's eyes sparkled, but he said calmly, "Not at all. the Silent Brothers can help her retrieve her memories.""You hate the Silent Brothers,"protested Isabelle."I don't hate them,"said Jace candidly."I'm afraid of them. It's not the same thing.""I thought you said they were libarians,"said Clary."They are librarians."Simon whistled. "Those must be some killer late fees."
"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."