…and now all she wanted to do was close her eyes and disappear into darkness. She had been angry for so long—anger always under the surface of everything. Whether she was shopping for presents with Simon or sitting in the park or alone at home trying to draw, the anger was always with her.

Simon rode into the city with his hood pulled up and his iPod blasting music into his ears. Music had always been his way of blocking everything out.

"Do you truly think you know each and every secret of your past?"

"You've never seemed to really need anyone, Clary. You've always been so... contained. All you've ever needed is your pencils and your imaginary worlds. So many times I've had to say thing six, seven times before you'd even respond, you were so far away."

She felt like she was drowning, kicking at the edges of her own consciousness to keep herself alert and above water.

It was strange how your whole world could shift on its axis and everything you trusted could invert itself in what seemed like no time at all.

Was there anyone in the world who could truly say they know every secret about themselves? And weren't some secrets better left alone?

"I don't want to be a man," said Jace "I want to be an angst-ridden teenager who can't confront his own inner demons and takes it out verbally on other people instead."

"The brightest stars of morning. The children of Lucifer, the most beautiful of God's angels. We are so much lovelier when we fall."

Looking close to tears, Clary pushed her plate away. "I feel sick now," she said. "You know that feeling like you're hungry but you can't bring yourself to eat?"

"I'm alone. I've never been so alone, and it's all my own fault." She realized, staring dry-eyes at the ceiling. "Because what was the point in crying when there was no one there to comfort you? And what was worse, when you couldn't even comfort yourself?"