“"I suppose you don't have much time for enjoying music," Clary said, thinking of Simon, for whom music was his entire life, "in your line of work."
He shrugged. "Maybe the occasional wailing chorus of the damned."”

“Damn it," I said. "I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to kill Littleton."

He smiled at me, his teeth very white in the darkness of his face. "Eat him," he said.”

“I don't know anything about music. In my line you don't have to.”

“He could have gone over that night and faced the music but how much music is a man supposed to face?”

“Remember that the style of music that is popular right now might not be popular by the time you have learned to master that music style. So always stay true to yourself and the kind of music you enjoy listening to and working on.”

“Music is your own experience, your own thoughts, your wisdom. If you don't live it, it won't come out of your horn. They teach you there's a boundary line to music. But, man, there's no boundary line to art.”

“I don't have fan, I have friends that enjoy my music. ”

“You think this is going to work? This peaceful summit thing?”
“Sure,” I said. After a second, I added, “Probably.”
“Probably?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“We’re down to maybe now?”
I shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“Clary," he said. "You saved my life."
"I stabbed you. With a massive sword. You caught on fire."
His lips twitched imperceptibly. "Okay," he said. "So maybe our problems aren't like other couples.”

“I think I like ‘mundane’ better than ‘bloodsucker,’” Simon muttered.
“With Jace, you don’t really get to choose your insulting nickname.”
-Simon and Clary, pg.234-”