History Gets Written By The Winners.

To Be Beautiful You Had To Be Willowy And Tall. When You Were As Short As Clary Was, Just Over Five Feet, You Were Cute. Not Pretty Or Beautiful, But Cute.

No One Blames Her." "that Never Matters," Said Alec. "not When You Blame Yourself.

Just Be Careful. When We Arrive At The House, You Can’t Look To Me For Help Or Instruction. Remember, I Am Your Human Subjugate. You Keep Me About You For Blood—blood Whenever You Want It—and Nothing Else.” “so You’re Not Going To Speak Tonight,” Tessa Said. “at All.” “not Unless You Instruct Me To,” Said Will. “this Evening Sounds As If It Might Be Better Than I Thought.

I Know What I'm Asking. For You To Find A Needle In - God, Not Even A Haystack. A Needle In A Tower Of Other Needles." "plunge Your Hand In A Tower Of Needles," Said Magnus, "and You Are Likely To Cut Yourself Badly. Are You Sure This Is What You Want?

Sorry,” She Said Breathlessly. “i Got Lost In The Crowd.” “i Noticed,” He Said. “one Second I Was Dancing With You, And The Next You Were Gone And A Very Persistent Werewolf Was Trying To Get The Buttons On My Jeans Undone.” Sebastian Chuckled. “girl Or Boy Werewolf?” “not Sure. Either Way, They Could Have Used A Shave.