“I could give you a thiught sheath to put that in,"Isabelle offered. "I got tons."
"CERTAINLY NOT," said Simon.
Clary shot him an irritated look. "Thanks, but I'm not really a thigh sheath kind of girl,"
-pg. 214”

“If you're really tired, I could put you to sleep," he said. "Tell you a bedtime story."
She looked at him. "Are you serious?"
"I'm always serious”

“Don't." Clary raised a warning hand. "I'm not really in the mood right now."
"That's got to be the first time a girl's ever said that to me," Jace mused.”

“Do you remember back at the hotel when you promised that if we lived, you'd get dressed up in a nurse's outfit and give me a sponge bath?"
"Actually, I think you misheard," Clary said. "It was Simon who promised you the sponge bath."
Jace looked involuntarily over at Simon, who smiled at him widely. "As soon as I'm back on my feet, handsome.”

“He looks," Simon had once said to Isabelle, "like he's thinking about something deep and meaningful, but if you ask him what it is, he'll punch you in the face.”

“Elizabeth sheathed her sword, knelt behind him, and strangled him to death with his own large bowel.”

“What's this?" he demanded, looking from Clary to his companions, as if they might know what she was doing there.
"It's a girl," Jace said, recovering his composure. "Surely you've seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one.”

“The boldness of his mind was sheathed in a scabbard of politeness.”

“719. One sword keepes another in the sheath.”

“Look on the bright side," said Simon, "If they need a human sacrifice, you can always offer me. I'm not sure the rest of you qualify anyway.”