No, I'm Just A Very Naughty Boy.

Clary Closed Her Eyes. Remembering The Way Jace Had Looked At Her The Night She'd Freed Ithuriel, She Couldn't Help But Imagine The Way He'd Look At Her Now If He Saw Her Trying To Lie Down To Die On The Sand Beside Him. He Wouldn't Be Touched, Wouldn't Think It Was A Beautiful Gesture. He'd Be Angry At Her For Giving Up. He'd Be So--disappointed.

It's Been So Long That I Think I Was Unsettled By The Idea Of Feeling Like I Belonged Anywhere. But You Made Me Feel Like I Belong.

You Know, When Most Girls Say They Want A Big Rock, They Don't Mean, You Know, Literally A Big Rock. -clary Fray To Jace Wayland

Write What You Want To Read. So Many People Think They Need To Write A Particular Kind Of Book, Or Imitate A Successful Style, In Order To Be Published. I've Known People Who Felt They Had To Model Their Book On Existing Blockbusters, Or Write In A Genre That's Supposed To Be "hot Right Now" In Order To Get Agents And Publishers Interested. But If You're Writing In A Genre You Don't Like, Or Modeling Yourself On A Book You Don't Respect, It'll Show Through. You're Your First, Most Important Reader, So Write The Book That Reader Really Wants To Read.

Beautiful. He'd Called Her Beautiful. Nobody Had Ever Called Her That Before, Except Her Mother, Which Didn't Count. Mothers Were Required To Think You Were Beautiful.