I Love Your Name. I Love The

Something Inside Clary Cracked And Broke, And Words Came Pouring Out. 'what Do You Want Me To Tell You? The Truth? The Truth Is That I Love Simon Like I Should Love You, And I Wish He Was My Brother And You Weren't, But I Can't Do Anything About That And Neither Can You!

Well, Why Did You Kill Jeremiah? And Don't Bother Feeding Me Some Story About How You Just Happened To Wander Along After He Spontaneously Died. I Know You Did This.

My Rapier Wit Hides My Inner Pain.

All Lightwoods Look The Same To Me—

The Kitchen Was Bright, Cheerful Yellow, The Walls Decorated With Framed Chalk And Pencil Sketches Simon And Rebecca Had Done In Grade School. Rebecca Had Some Drawing Talent, You Could Tell, But Simon's Sketches Of People All Looked Like Parking Meters With Tufts Of Hair.