I am too old to be Alec, I am to short to be Alec, I mean if you look at just the logistics of each individual, we are not perfectly as the book is written. But that’s not what casting is about. It’s about becoming the character that people recognize, rather than having every physical trait.

“You know, some people think Shadowhunters are just myths. Like mummies and genies.” Kyle grinned at Jace. “Can you grant wishes?”

“That depends,” he said. “Do you wish to be punched in the face?”

With Jace, you don’t really get to choose your insulting nickname.

Still I pictured having you for fifty, sixty more years. I thought I might be ready then to let you go. But it’s you, and I realize now that I won’t be anymore ready to lose you then than I am right now. Which is not at all.

I have learned good lessons in how to be hateful over all these years. But I feel myself losing myself-I feel diminished, parts of me spiraling away into the darkness, that which is good and honest and true- if you hold it away from yourself long enough, do you lose it entirely? If no one cares for you at all, do you even really exist?

Most people don’t cry when they’re upset or frightened, but rather when they’re frustrated.

Humans were so stupid. They had something so precious, and they barely safeguarded it at all. They threw away their loves for money, or packets of powder, for a stranger’s charming smile.