Dear Alec, As Your Best Friend And

Jace Shook His Blond Head In Exasperation. "you Had To Make A Crazy Jail Friend, Didn't You? You Couldn't Just Count Ceiling Tiles Or Tame A Pet Mouse Like Normal Prisoners Do?

He Bent Down To Her; Their Mouths Met Again, And The Shock Of Sensation Was So Strong, So Overpowering, That She Shut Her Eyes Against It As If She Could Hide In The Darkness. He Murmured And Gathered Her Against Him.

I've Met An Attractive Weasel Or Two In My Time. He Looks More Like A Rat." -pg.170-

What About Isabelle?" Simon Asked. "where Is She?" The Humor, Such As It Was, Left Jace's Expression. "she Won't Come Out Of Her Room," He Said. "she Thinks That What Happened To Max Was Her Fault. She Won't Even Come To The Funeral." "have You Tried Talking To Her?" "no," Jace Said, "we've Been Punching Her Repeatedly In The Face Instead. Why, Do You Think That Won't Work?" "just Thought I'd Ask." Simon's Tone Was Mild.

It Is Hard To Think Of Something As A Gift When You Have Been Tormented And Imprisoned For It.