But how do they get inside?" "they fly," jace said, and indicated the upper floors of the building. [...] "we don't fly," clary felt impelled to point out. "no," jace agreed. "we don't fly. We break and enter." he started across the street toward the hotel. "flying sounds like more fun," clary said, hurrying to catch up with him. "right now everything sounds like more fun.
You don't get rich, you don't often have much fun. Sometimes you get beaten up or shot at or tossed into the jail house. Once in a long while you get dead. Every other month you decide to give it up and find some sensible occupation while you can still walk without shaking your head. Then the door buzzer rings and you open the inner door to the waiting room and there stands a new face with a new problem, a new load of grief, and a small piece of money.
Yes, he’s a good boy. never been in trouble at school and he’s on the honor roll. captain of the football team. all-around psycho serial killer who hides bodies in the fridge whenever his parents go out of town. (nick) i also eat babies for breakfast and torture small animals for fun. my therapist says i’m making real progress though. (caleb)