Quotes from Laini Taylor

Thank you to the world for being a wild and inspiring place, full of odd creatures, strange people, and mysterious cities. I hope by and by to know you better.

It seemed she was in a cathedral—if, that is, the earth itself were to dream a cathedral into being over thousands of years of water weeping through stone.

It's the fuel for everything our people have done to each other since the beginning. That's what makes peace seem impossible. How can you blame someone for wanting to kill the killer of their loved ones? How can you fault people for what they do in grief?

Las mariposas en el estómago-suspiró Karou-Claro. ¿Sabes lo que pienso? Que las mariposas están siempre ahí, en el estómago de todos, en todo momento... - ¿Cómo bacterias? - No, no como bacterias, como mariposas. Y las de cada uno reaccionan con determinadas personas, a nivel químico, como feromonas, así cuando esas personas se acercan, tus mariposas empiezan a bailar. No pueden evitarlo, es una reacción química.

Las almas muertas solo sueñan con la muerte —dijo el resucitador al emperador—. Los sueños insignificantes son para los hombres insginificantes. La vida es la que se expande para llenar los mundos.

And yet, something tied them together, strong than any of that, something with the power to conduct her blood and breath like a symphony, so that anything she did to fight against it felt like discord, like disharmony with her self.

In the sheer, shimmering improbability of the moment, it seemed to Lazlo that his dream had tired of waiting and had simply… come to find him. There

Nerves," Mik told Karou. "Bad?" "Terrible." Stepping up behind Zuzana, he bent down to enfold her in a spoon-hug. "Ferociously, dreadfully awful. She's unbearable. You take her. I've had enough." Zuzana batted at him, then squealed as he buried his face in the curve of her throat and made exaggerated kissing noises.

It's an open horizon before us, as far as the eye can see: no angst and no games, just mutual delight. So simple, but so rich. Like chocolate. Not a gold-dusted truffle or a foofy pastry tower teetering on a crystal platter, but a plain, honest bar of the best chocolate in the world.

the lovers ... dreamed of a world that was like a jewel box without a jewel - a paradise waiting for them ... to fill it with their happiness

His smiles had been pickled things, as though they'd been preserved in vinegar on some earlier occasion, to be pulled out to act as garnish to his artfully plated expressions.

I kept thinking about that drawing in the war council, and our part in all of this. We cheat the bowl. We keep filling it back up, and the monsters keep stabbing their giant forks in, and because of us, there's always more for them to eat. We never lose but we never win, either. We just keep on dying. Is that what we do?

Those seraphim who escaped into the neighbor world Eretz managed to hold the portal closed, and they held it to this day, pouring their strength into shoring up their sky to keep the darkness at bay. A bold young queen in that distant world was even now training a legion of angels and chimaera to battle the darkness and hopefully destroy it. But that's another story.

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. It's 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.

How often did this happen to people, this not knowing where in the world you were?

Even if it was just walls and a roof with papers inside, it had bewitched him, and drawn him in, and given him everything he needed to become himself.

For fifteen years, the people of Weep had lived with the certainty that the monsters were dead, and Eril-Fane had lived with the burden of it.

There was darkness, and monsters vast as worlds swam in it.

Who had ever expended so much passion on a dream, only to stand helpless as it was granted to others? Others, moreover, who had expended no passion on it at all.

He moved through his mind with the assuredness of an explorer and the grace of a poet.

I've been looking forward to this for weeks. You don't even know. It's like, gross hunter, gross hunter, gross hunter, puppet show!

It's all very nice for Christians, yes? 'Angels' in Rome, 'demons' here. How neat, how tidy for the Western world view, and how wrong.

Los deseos son engañosos; sin embargo, la esperanza es sincera. La esperanza realiza su propia magia.

She'd thought that she would do anything for them, but it had never occurred to her that "anything" might mean letting them go.