Alice Liddell

“Please recall that I am the pale neurasthenic one and you are the stern heroic one,” Matthew said to James. “It is very tedious when you mix up our roles.”
“So what is my role?” said Christopher.
“Mad inventor, of course,” said Matthew promptly. “And Thomas is the one with a good heart.”
“Lord, I sound dull,” said Thomas.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Matthew, hopped up on a nearby occasional table said, “The last time I saw you shocked was when that Iblis demon was sending Christopher love letters.”
“I have a dark charm,” said Christopher sadly.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“The last time you were feeling heartbroken, you took shots at a chandelier with a mundane gun and nearly drowned yourself in the Serpentine.” said Matthew.
“I wasn’t trying to drown myself,” James pointed out. “Besides, Magnus Bane saved me.”
“Don’t mention that,” said Matthew, as James uncapped the flask. “You know how angry I am about that. I idolize Magnus Bane, you had one chance to meet him, and you embarrassed us all.”
“I’m quite sure I never mentioned any of you to him,” said James, and tipped the flask back. He choked. It was blue ruin: the cheapest, harshest kind of gin. It went down like lightning. He coughed and thrust the flask away.
“Even worse,” said Matthew. “How sharper than the serpent’s tooth it is to have an ungrateful parabatai.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Matthew sighed as he set the bottle on the mantel. “You know what they say,” he said, as he and James left the room and began to wend their way back toward the party. “Drink, and you will sleep; sleep, and you will not sin; do not sin, and you will be saved; therefore, drink and be saved.”
“Matthew, you could sin in your sleep,” said a languorous voice.
“Anna,” said Matthew, sagging against James’s shoulder. “Have you been sent to fetch us?”
Lounging against the wall was James’s cousin Anna Lightwood, gorgeously dressed in fitted trousers and a pin-striped shirt. She had the Herondale blue eyes, always disconcerting for James to see, as it felt a bit as if his father were looking at him. “If by ‘fetch,’ you mean ‘drag you back to the ballroom by any means possible,’  ” Anna said. “There are girls who need someone to dance with them and tell them they look pretty, and I cannot do it all on my own.”
The musicians in the ballroom suddenly struck up a tune—a lively waltz.
“Crikey, not waltzing,” said Matthew, in despair. “I loathe waltzing.”
He began to back away. Anna seized him by the back of the coat. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, and firmly herded both of them toward the ballroom.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold