Wolf

“I'm trying to figure out how someone could live in a brothel for a month and not notice. You must be terribly dull-witted."
Tessa glared.
"If it helps at all, it seemed to be quite a high-class establishment. Nicely furnished, fairly clean..."
"Sounds as if you've visited your fair share of brothels," Tessa said, sourly. "Making a study of them?"
"More of a hobby," said Will, and smiled like a bad angel.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

“Reparations,” said Jem very suddenly, setting down the pen he was holding.
Will looked at him in puzzlement. “Is this a game? We just blurt out whatever word comes next to mind? In that case mine is ‘genuphobia’. It means an unreasonable fear of knees.”
“What’s the word for a perfectly reasonable fear of annoying idiots?” inquired Jessamine.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

“Before I leave the bathroom, I pinch my cheeks hard to bring blood to the surface of my skin. It’s stupid, but I don’t want to look weak and exhausted in front of everyone.

When I walk back into Tobias’s room, Uriah is sprawled across the bed facedown; Christina is holding the blue sculpture above Tobias’s desk, examining it; and Lynn is poised above Uriah with a pillow, a wicked grin creeping across her face.

Lynn smacks Uriah hard in the back of the head, Christina says, “Hey Tris!” and Uriah cries, “Ow! How on earth do you make a pillow hurt, Lynn?”

“My exceptional strength,” she says. “Did you get smacked, Tris? One of your cheeks is bright red.”

I must not have pinched the other one hard enough. “No, it’s just … my morning glow.”
― Veronica Roth, Insurgent

“Remember when you tried to convince me to feed a poultry pie to the mallards in the park to see if you could breed a race of cannibal ducks?"

"They ate it too," Will reminisced. "Bloodthirsty little beasts. Never trust a duck.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel