Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

"To love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be destroyed"

"Shouldn't we stand back to back or something" "What? Why" "I don't know. In movies that's what they do in this kind of… situation."

"she glanced down and saw that a glove of blood covered her lower arm from the elbow to the wrist. The arm was throbbing, stiff, and painful. "Is this when you start tearing strips off your T-shirt to bind up my wound" she joked. She hated the sight of blood, especially her own. "If you wanted me to rip my clothes off, you should have just asked." He dug into his pocket and brought out his stele. "It would have been a lot less painful."

"Demons," drawled the blond boy, tracing the word on the air with his finger. "Religiously defined as hell's denizens, the servants of Satan, but understood here, for the purposes of the Clave, to be any malevolent spirit whose origin is outside our own home dimension -"

"Not specifically. "Demons have been on Earth as long as we have. They're all over the world, in their different forms – Greek daemons, Persian daevas, Hindu asuras, Japanese oni. Most belief systems have some method of incorporating both their existence and the fight against them. Shadowhunters cleave to no single religion, and in turn all religions assist us in our battle. I could as easily have gone for help to a Jewish synagogue or a Shinto temple, or – Ah. Here it is."

"I've got plenty.” Isabelle smiled, kicking her feet up so that her anklets jingled like Christmas bells. "These, for instance. The left one is gold, which is poisonous to demons, and the right one is blessed iron, in case I run across any unfriendly vampires or even faeries, faeries hate iron. They both have strength runes carved into them, so I can pack a hell of a kick. "Demon hunting and fashion," Clary said. "I never would have thought they went together."

"You're not gay, are you"Simon's greenish color deepened. "If I were, I would dress better."

"To love is to destroy, and to be the one loved is to be destroyed."

"Where's Simon" Clary interrupted. Isabelle wobbled. "He's a rat," she said darkly. Did he do something to you" Alec was full of brotherly concern. "Did he touch you? If he tried anyt"

"Honestly I don't know why i have these parties"Because of your cat"That's true. Chairman Meow deserves my every effort"

"No. It is said that the Nephilim are the children of men and angels. All that this angelic heritage has given to us is a longer distance to fall."

"What are you thinking"Just how different everything down there is now, you know, now that I can see."Everything down there is exactly the same," he said. "You're the one that's different."

"Jace turned to look over his shoulder, the wind whipping his hair into tangles. "What are you thinking" he called back to her."Just how different everything down there is now, you know, now that I can see."Everything down there is exactly the same," he said. "You're the one that's different."

"I wish you'd stop desperately trying to get my attention like this," he said. "It's become embarrassing."Sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt," she told him."I can't help it. I use my rapier wit to hide my inner pain."

"Don't tell me," Jace said, "Simon's turned himself into an ocelot and you want me to do something about it before Isabelle makes him into a stole. Well, you'll have have to wait till tomorrow. I'm out of commission." He pointed at himself - he was wearing blue pajamas with a hole in the sleeve. "Look. Jammies."Jace," Clary said, "this is important."Don't tell me," he said. "You've got a drawing emergency. You need a nude model. Well, I'm not in the mood. You could always ask Hodge," he said as an afterthought. "I hear he'll do anything for a -"JACE!" she interrupted him, her voice rising to a scream. "JUST SHUT UP FOR A SECOND AND LISTEN, WILL YOU?"

"Sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt."

"She winced and covered her ears as Eric,onstage, wrestled with his microphone."Sorry about that, guys!" he yelled. "All right. I'm Eric, and this is my homeboy Matt on the drums. My first poem is called 'Untitled.'" He screwed up his face as if in pain, and wailed into the mike. "Come my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal!"Simon slid down in his seat. "Please don't tell anyone I know him."Clary giggled. "Who uses the word 'loins'"Eric," Simon said grimly. "All his poems have loins in them."'Turgid is my torment!" Eric wailed. "Agony swells within!"You bet it does," Clary said."

"Don't stop there. I suppose there are also, what, vampires and werewolves and zombies"Of course there are. Although you mostly find zombies farther south, where the voudun priests are."What about mummies? Do they only hang around Egypt"Don't be ridiculous. No one believes in mummies."

"Drive like hell was following you." - Jace Wayland"

"If you insist on disavowing that which is ugly about what you do," said Magnus, still looking at Alec, "you will never learn from your mistakes."