God Knows We’re All Drawn To What’s

Tact Is Just Lying For Adults.

As Luke Knelt Down Beside His Corpse, Clary Couldn’t Help But Remember What He Had Said About Having Loved Valentine Once, About Having Been His Closest Friend. Luke, She Thought With A Pang. Surely He Couldn’t Be Sad — Or Even Grieved? But Then Again, Perhaps Everyone Should Have Someone To Grieve For Them, And There Was No One Else To Grieve For Valentine.

Clary, You're An Artist, Like Your Mother. That Means You See The World In Ways That Other People Don't. It's Your Gift, To See The Beauty And The Horror In Ordinary Things. It Doesn't Make You Crazy — Just Different. There's Nothing Wrong With Being Different.

What's The Word For A Perfectly Reasonable Fear Of Annoying Idiots?

I Was Marked By A Very Cute Boy With Terrible Impulse Control. I Don't Remember Because I Was Basically Unconscious But Everyone Was Mad At Him When I Woke Up. The End, Love Clary.