Aubrey Langford

“Excellent. I've been told I have a lovely, melodic reading voice." He flipped the book open to the front page, where the title was printed in ornate script. Across from it was a long dedication, the ink faded now and barely legible, though Clary could make out the signature: With hope at last, William Herondale.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“Point is, people lie a lot. Sometimes out of habit. Not many people are good at telling the truth.”
― Jonathan Maberry, Rot & Ruin

“What's wrong, little sis? You look upset."
She could barely catch her breath. "Cracked...my...nail polish slapping your... worthless face. See?" She showed him her finger - just one of them.
"Cute" He snorted.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“Jordan doesn't really care about the blood," Simon said now. "His whole thing is about me being comfortable with what I am. Get in touch with your inner vampire, blah, blah."
Clary slid in next to him onto the bed and hugged a pillow. "Is your inner vampire different from your...outer vampire?"
"Definitely. He wants me to wear midriff-baring shirts and a fedora. I'm fighting it."
Clary smiled faintly. "So your inner vampire is Magnus?”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls