Roza Grey

“Yeah, well, you clearly also couldn't be bothered to call me and tell me you were shacking up with some dyed-blond wanna-be goth you probably met at Pandemonium. After I spent the past three days wondering if you were dead."
"I was not shacking up," Clary said, glad of the darkness as the blood rushed to her face.
"And my hair is naturally blond," said Jace. "Just for the record."
Simon, Clary, and Jace, pg. 115”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“I was trying to make you jealous!" Simon screamed, right back. His hands were fisted at his sides. "You're so stupid, Clary. You're so stupid, can't you see anything?"

She stared at him in bewilderment. What on earth did he mean? "Trying to make me jealous? Why would you try to do that?"

She saw immediately that this was the worst thing she could have asked him.

"Because," he said, so bitterly that it shocked her, "I've been in love with you for ten years, so I thought it seemed like the time to find out whether you felt the same about me. Which, I guess you don't.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“JACE WAYLAND," she said. "Explain yourself."
Jace was glaring at the cat. "I told you to bring me to Alec! Backstabing Judas."
Church rolled onto his back, purring contentedly.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“Well, when I was five, I wanted my mother to let me go around and around inside a dryer with the clothes,” Clary said. “The difference is, she didn’t let me.”
“Probably because going around and around in a dryer can be fatal,” Jace pointed out, “whereas pasta is rarely fatal. Unless Isabelle makes it.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones