Hail And Farewell, My Brother.

As Long As There Is Love And Memory, There Is No True Loss.

Concerned About My Safety, Are You? -william Herondale.

You Don't Get It, Clary. You Don't Understand What It's Like To Live Always At War, To Grow Up With Battle And Sacrifice. I Guess It's Not Your Fault. It's Just How You Were Brought Up-

He Tried To Learn Seductive Phrases In All Languages, But The Only Swedish He Had Ever Really Needed Was, "do You Serve Anything Aside From Pickled Fish?" And "if You Wrap Me In Furs, I Can Pretend To Be Your Little Fuzzy Bear.

He Seemed To Realize She Was Staring At Him, Because The Cursing Stopped. "you Cut Me," He Said. His Voice Was Pleasant. British. Very Ordinary. He Looked At His Hand With Critcal Interest. "it Might Be Fatal." Tessa Looked At Him With Wide Eyes. "are You The Magister?" He Tilted His Hand To The Side. Blood Ran Down It, Spattering The Floor. "dear Me, Massive Blood Loss. Death Could Be Imminent.