“She was just a shell of her former self, functioning and talking but hardly alive.”

“I tried to talk to Annabeth, but she was acting like I'd just punched her grandmother.”

“It's so dark," she said lamely.

"You want me to hold your hand?"

Clary put both her hands behind her back like a small child.

"Don't talk down to me."

"Well, I could hardly talk up to you. You're too short.”

“I want to talk to her. I want to have lunch with her. I want her to give me a book she just read and loved. She is my phantom limb, and I just can’t believe I’m here without her.”- on losing her best friend”

“She didn't want to touch the baby. Didn't want to know if she was dead. But still she reached down, her arms underneath that small body, and pulled it up against her. The body was burning with fever.
But alive. Alive!”

“Clary curled up on the ground seeing in front of her not the shell of a destroyed town but the eyes of the brother and the sister that she would never have.”

“she was glad she had been scarred. She said that whoever loved her now would love her true self, and not her pretty face.”

“Through her jacket, I could feel her heartbeat. It made me happy to know she was alive, was real, was there.”

“I know a girl who just looks at her face in the medicine cabinet mirror and never looks below her shoulders, and she's four or five hundred pounds but she doesn't see all that, she just sees a beautiful face and therefore she thinks she's a beauty. And therefore, I think she's a beauty, too, because I usually accept people on the basis of their self-images, because their self-images have more to do with the way they think than their objective-images do.”

“She needed to talk, she needed to cry, she needed to vent all her frustrations and disappointments.”