"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."
"The meek may inherit the earth, but at the moment it belongs to the conceited. Like me."
"If there were such a thing as terminal literalism, you'd have died in childhood."
"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."
"Don't."Clary raised a warning hand. "I'm not really in the mood right now.""That's got to be the first time a girl's ever said that to me,"Jace mused."
"Going round and around inside a dryer can be fatal, whereas pasta is rarely fatal. Unless Isabelle makes it."