"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."
"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."
"Sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt."
"Is this the part where you start tearing off strips of your shirt to bind my wounds?""If you wanted me to rip my clothes off, you should have just asked."
"By the Angel,"Jace said, looking the demon up and down. "I knew Greater Demons were meant to be ugly, but no one ever warned me about the smell."Abbadon opened its mouth and hissed. Inside its mouth were two rows of jagged glass-sharp teeth."I'm not sure about this wind and howling darkness business,"Jace went on, "smells more like landfill to me. You sure you're not from Staten Island?"
"It means 'Shadowhunters: Looking Better in Black Than the Widows of our Enemies Since 1234'."