Laini Taylor Quotes

Laini Taylor Quotes

Happiness. It was the place where passion, with all its dazzle and drumbeat, met something softer: homecoming and safety and pure sunbeam comfort. It was all those things, intertwined with the heat and the thrill, and it was as bright within her as a swallowed star.

She moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx.

For the way loneliness is worse when you return to it after a reprieve - like the soul’s version of putting on a wet bathing suit, clammy and miserable.

What do you think I live on, rainwater and daydreams?

It was brave," countered Issa. "It was rare. It was love, and it was beautiful.

Yearning for love made her feel like a cat that was always twining around ankles, meowing Pet me, pet me, look at me, love me.

I know it's not easy for you, living this life, but try to remember, always try to remember, you're not the only one with troubles.

Brimstone once told me that to stay true in the face of evil is a feat of strength.

Happiness wasn't a mystical place to be reached or won-some bright terrain beyond the boundary of misery, a paradise waiting for them to find it-but something to carry doggedly with you through everything, as humble and ordinary as your gear and supplies.

I'm afraid they're in love," he said, concerned. "They don't want to leave you." He lifted one hand from her waist to gently brush a pair from her neck, where their wings fanned against her jaw. Melancholy, he said, "I know just how they feel.

And they were quiet but their blood and nerves and butterflies were not - they were rampantly alive, rushing and thrumming in a wild and perfect melody, matched note for note.

He danced with the sky instead, and the sky dropped him like a rotten plum.

Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there's no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic.

Having hope was like dangling himself over a chasm and putting the rope in her hands. She could annihilate him if she wanted to.

Be a Samurai.
Because you just never know what's behind the freaking sky.

My tiny scary friend is coming

Hello, King Morgan,” said Gabriel, popping his head into the lab. “And how is the planet’s only non-idiot on this fine day?”
“Screw you,” replied Morgan, without turning from his computer.
“Ah, excellent,” said Gabriel. “I’m having a lovely morning, too.

There was only present, and it was infinite. The past and the future were just blinders we wore so that infinity wouldn't drive us mad.

There is the past, and there is the future. The present is never more than the single second dividing one from the other.

Creamy and leggy, with long azure hair and the eyes of a silent-movie star, she moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx.

It didn't 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.

And Esme remembered in a rush-the wolfsong, the haunting, lyrical spirals of it in the dawn quiet and the feeling of euphoria that had attended it. Even in recollection the howling uplifted her like the crescendo at the end of a symphony and made her heartbeat quicken.

War does that, nothing for it. Reality lays siege. Your framed portrait of life is smashed, and a new one thrust upon you. It's ugly, and you don't even want to look at it let alone hang it on the wall, but you have no choice, once you know. Once you really know.

Peace is more than the absence of war. Peace is accord. Harmony.

It was sadness, lostness, and the worst thing about it was the way it seemed like a default - like it was there all the time, and all her other expressions were just an array of masks she used to cover it up.

There is intimacy in pain. Anyone who has comforted a sufferer knows it - the helpless tenderness, the embrace and murmur and slow rocking together as two become one against the enemy, pain

Bitter, bitter, this desolation of angels.

You really think joy is easier to come by than pain? What have you had more of?

All evening long, real snow would fall from the ceiling to glitter on the lashes of dancing girls and ardent boys, but Neve and the Dreamer didn't linger.

They had other things to do: *all* of them. All the things, dreamed and undreamed, in the depth and breadth of the whole spinning world.

Everyone I know who put any energy into a backup plan is now living that backup plan instead of their dream. Put all your energy into your dream. That’s the only way it will ever become real.

She wanted to be free, and if she could never be free, at least she wanted to be brave - brave enough not to sell herself, no matter what the payment, or the cost of refusing.

Music. Close your eyes and it's a rosebush blooming in time lapse so that it shoots and blossoms flow outward in a swift choreography of growth and collapse, twine and coil, release and fade.
Close your eyes and music paints light vines and calligraphy on the darkness within you.

Do you know what they're called? They're the Shadows That Live, Zuze. They're assassins."
"Like me," said Zuzanna cheerfully.

Is that all souls are for? For when we die?"
"No. They're for living, too.

You've got to have, like, a lentil for a soul to hate wiener dogs.

Love is a luxury."
"No. Love is an element."
An element. Like air to breathe, earth to stand on.

It's not like there's a law against flying."

"Yes there is. The law of gravity.

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