Quotes by Laini Taylor

Liraz snorted, caught off guard, and the tension between them ebbed away. Im sorry of my almost dying interrupted your almost kissing.

Be an unstoppable force. Write with an imaginary machete strapped to your thigh. This is not wishy-washy, polite, drinking-tea-with-your-pinkie-sticking-out stuff. Its who you want to be, your most powerful self. Write your books. Finish them, then make them better. Find the way. No one will make this dream come true for you but you.

The dead, she said. And we have plenty of dead between us, but the way we act, youd think they were corpses handing on to our ankles, rather than souls freed to the elements. ... theyre gone, they cant be hurt anymore, but we drag their memory around with us, doing our worst in their name, like its what theyd want, for us to avenge them?

Beautiful men and women with distorted shadows came and scorched their handprints onto doors before vanishing skyward, drafts of heat billowing behind them with the whumph of unseen wings. Here and there, feathers fell, and they were like tufts of white fire, disintegrating to ash as soon as they touched the ground.

His lips made a grim twist that was like the joyless cousin of a smile.

And... a bed. A bed and a blanket to cover them, a blanket that was theirs together.

The eye’s perception of texture is pale compared to the lips’, and I didn’t know what velvety was until I knew it with my lips. Oh, kissing. Oh, violin boy.

Papilio stomachus: fragile creatures, vulnerable to forst and betrayal.

This wasnt a person, Zuzana thought, this was greed wearing skin.

What can a soldier do when mercy is treason, and he is alone in it?

Youve got to have, like, a lentil for a soul to hate wiener dogs.

His hope was like an intake of icy air—it hurt—and just as sharp and sudden was his jealousy. In an instant he was hot and cold with it, his hands clenching into fists so tight they burned. A flare of adrenaline coursed through him and left him shaking, and it wasn’t her. It wasn’t her, and for the fleeting flash of an instant, he felt relief. Followed by crushing disappointment and self-loathing for what his reaction had been.

There was a man who loved the moon, but whenever he tried to embrace her, she broke into a thousand pieces and left him drenched, with empty arms.

It was cruel. Like opening a birdcage to let the bird fly out, whilst all the while its tethered by the leg, and freedom is only an illusion.

Its never too soon to worry. Worry spurs preparation.

And if redemption was self-serving, coming as it did ribbon-tied to what he wanted most in life? For once, Akivas shame wouldnt rise to the bait. He wanted what hed always wanted, and hed better just say it, his own worries and fears be damned.

I feel liquefied, like a cucumber forgotten in the crisper drawer, and I want to hold myself at arms length and carry me to the trash. Who is this sack of slush masquerading as me? Its intolerable.

Its like all my life Ive been this tower standing at the edge of the ocean for some obscure purpose, and only now, almost eighteen years in, has someone thought to flip the switch that reveals that Im not a tower at all. Im a lighthouse. Its like waking up. I am incandescent.

It didnt matter; by now she knew she loved him in any skin. In her book there was another tale - one of the original eighteen - of a dragon who had a human wife, and Neve had never understood it before, at least from the wifes point of view. Love was love. But she hoped that he was not a dragon.

There are boys you look at and want to touch with your mouth, and there are boys you look at and want to wear one of those surgical masks everyone in China had during bird flu. There are a lot more bird-flu boys at large.