Quotes from Laini Taylor

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.

There comes a certain point with a hope or a dream, when you either give it up or give up everything else.

My tiny scary friend is coming

magic was ugly—-a hard bargain with the universe, a calculus of pain.

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.

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.

Death," said Akiva. His life was leaving him fast now that he no longer held his wound. His eyes just wanted to drift closed. "I'm ready." "Well, I'm not. I hear it's dull, being dead." She said it lightly, amused, and he peered up at her. Had she just made a joke? She smiled. Smiled He did, too. Amazed, he felt it happening, as if her smile had triggered a reflex in him. "Dull sounds nice," he said, letting his eyes flutter closed. "Maybe I can catch up on my reading.

Please tell me you have to pee." "What? No. No, I do not. Don't even ask." "Oh, come on. I'd do it myself if I could, but I can't. I'm a girl." "I know. Life is unfair. I'm still not going to pee on Karou's ex-boyfriend for you." "What? I wasn't even going to ask you to." In her most reasonable tone, Zuzana explained, "I just want you to pee in a balloon so I can drop it on him." "Oh." Mik pretended to consider this for approximately one and a half second. "No.

In moments Akiva was up in the ether, scarcely feeling the sting of ice crystals in the thin air. He let his glamour fall away, and his wings were like sheets of fire sweeping the black of the heavens. He moved at speed, onward toward another human city to find another doorway bitter with the devil's magic, and after that another, until all bore the black handprint....Once all the doors were marked, the end would begin. And it would begin with fire.

When a street musician lowered his violin to inquire, 'Hey lovely, what you got there?' she said, 'Musicians who ask questions,' and kept on dragging.

I'm lucky I'm even alive," she announced. "When I was little, I sucked on duck eyeballs.

There was a word from a myth: sathaz . It was the desire to possess that which can never be yours. It meant senseless, hopeless yearning, the way a gutter child might dream of being king, and it came from the tale of the man who loved the moon.

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

He had, in his hearts, declared war on the dark child, but Lazlo was no warrior, and his hearts had no talent for hate.

I might try that one thing, you know, that thing people do when their eyes get all wet and stupid—what's it called? Crying? Or NOT. I might PUNCH you instead and trust that you won't punch me back because of my endearing smallness. It would be like punching a child.

Get out of doors, Strange. Breathe air, see things. A man should have squint lines from looking at the horizon, not just from reading in dim light.

Good little girls don't stab their nurses and drag toddlers over their corpses in order to save their lives. Good little girls don't kill. They die. And Minya was not a good little girl.

I'm going to be the scariest grandma in the world.

We only get to be one person; we don't even get to choose that person. By the time we get ahold of ourselves, we are pieces already in play.

I have not yet elected to bestow the grace of my saliva upon another human being. I have never… kissed anyone.

She had inherited a story that was strewn with corpses and clotted with enmity, and was only trying to stay alive in it.

She was a girl and she was a queen and back in the mists she was a woman who had seized the moon from the sky and drunk its light so that she would never die. And she never had.

She tasted of fairytales

The world was carnage. You either suffered it or inflicted it.