She had worn the Morgenstern ring since Jace had left it for her, and sometimes she wondered why. Did she really want to be reminded of Valentine? And yet, at the same time, was it ever right to forget?You couldn't erase everything that caused you pain with its recollection. She didn't want to forget Max or Madeleine, or Hodge, or the Inquisitor, or even Sebastian. Every moment was valuable; even the bad ones.

Good. Because I don't need protecting.I knew you'd say that.But the thing is, sometimes you do. And sometimes I do. We're meant to protect each other, but not from everything. Not from the truth. That's what it means to love someone but let them be themselves.

Jace said that the cast of Gilligan's Island could do something anatomically unlikely with themselves.

She knew how breakups went from hearing other girls complain about them. First the pulling away, the gradual refusal to return notes or phone calls. The vague messages saying nothing was wrong, that the other person just needed a little space. Then the speech about how It's not you, it's me. Then the crying part.She'd never thought any of that would apply to her and Jace. What they had wasn't ordinary, or subject to the ordinary rules of relationships and breakups. They belonged to each other totally, and always will, and that was that.But maybe everyone felt that way? Until the moment they realized they were just like everyone else, and everyone they'd thought was real shattered apart.

She opened her mouth to answer, but he was already kissing her. She had kissed him so many times— soft gentle kisses, hard and desperate ones, brief brushes of the lips that said good-bye, and kisses that seemed to go on for hours— and this was no different. The way the memory of someone who had once lived in a house might linger even after they were gone, like a sort of psychicimprint,herbody rememberedJace.Remembered the way he tasted, the slant of his mouth over hers, his scars under her fingers, the shape of his body under her hands.

I love you, Clary, he said without looking at her. He was staring out into the church, at the row of lighted candles, their fold reflected in his eyes. More than I ever-- He broke off. God. More than I probably should. You know that, don't you?

And second, keep in mind that you are a weapon. In theory, when you're done with training, you should be able to kick a hole in a wall or knock out a moose with a single punch.I would never hit a moose, said Clary. They're endangered.

Enormous? Did you just call me FAT? I am not fat. - Jace

the [coat] rack above his head like a javelin.On the other side of the door was Jace. He blinked. Is that a coatrack?Jordan slammed the coatrack down on the ground and sighed. If you'd been a vampire, this would have been a lot more useful.Yes, said Jace. Or, you know, just someone with a lot of coats.

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.

I guess it's true what they say, observed Jace. There are no straight men in the trenches.That's atheists, jackass, said Simon furiously. There are no atheists in the trenches.

We need to talk. All of us About what we're going to do now.I was going to watch Project Runway.

Jace shook his blond head in exasperation. You had to make a crazy jail friend, didn't you? You couldn't just count ceiling tiles or tame a pet mouse like normal prisoners do?

Jace broke off the kiss and stepped back with an exhale; before Clary could say anything, a chorus of sarcastic applause broke out from the nearby hill. Simon, Isabelle, and Alec waved at them. Jace bowed while Clary stepped back slightly sheepishly, hooking her thumbs into the belt of her jeansJace sighed. Shall we join our annoying, voyeuristic friends?Unfortunately, that's the only kind of friends we have.

Everything that happens to you matters to me.

Not enough, he said, letting her hair slip through his fingers. If I kiss you all day, everyday, for the rest of my life, it won't be enough.

Every time I think I'm missing a piece of me, you give it back.

And next time you're planning to injure yourself to get me attention, just remember that a little sweet talk works wonders.

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.