“I don't like killing a girl," the Spaniard said.
"God does it all the time; if it doesn't bother Him, don't let it worry you.”

“She pulled away. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Neither does this," he said, "but I don't care. I'm sick of trying to pretend I can live without you. Don't you understand that? Can't you see it's killing me?”

“All boys lie," Ben said. "And all girls lie, too. I lie. You lie. Don't pretend you don't.”

“I don't want Church to be like all those dead pets! I don't want Church to ever be dead! He's my cat! He's not God's cat! Let God have His own cat! Let God have all the damn old cats He wants, and kill them all! Church is mine!”

“Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what.”

“You don't need to worry, though. He's not my type."
"I don't think I've ever heard a girl say that before," said Simon. "I thought Jace was the kind of guy who was everyone's type.”

“Stop thinking all the time that you're in the way, that you're bothering the person next to you. If people don't like it, they can complain. And if they don't have courage to complain, that's their problem.”

“Don't worry chief,"said foaly,"It's like riding a unicorn, you never forget.”

“And before you barrel through some idiotic Cosmo girl list of how-well-do-you-know-your-man questions, let me say that I don't know squat about him except that he kisses like a god and screws like a devil.”

“Does the same as the system call of that name. If you don't know what it does, don't worry about it.”