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Just then, lit only by the flicker of his wings,the sight of him was so..right somehow. He was right. It made no sense at all, but the feeling flooded through Karou

Laini Taylor

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Laini Taylor
Age: 52
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Made
Lit
Somehow
Wings
Sight
Feeling
Sense
Feelings
Flooded
Right
Flicker

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I start to wonder if I’m being creepy. I mean, I am creeping. Does creep-ing automatically make one creep-y? Or are there dispensations for…romance? I bet all stalkers believe they’re being romantic. I did it for love, officer.
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You really think joy is easier to come by than pain? What have you had more of?
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Love is a luxury. No. Love is an element. An element. Like air to breathe, earth to stand on.
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Karou saw them with her human eyes, this army she had rendered more monstrous than ever nature had, and she knew what the world would see in them if they flew to fight the Dominion: demons, nightmares, evil. The sight of the seraphim would be heralded as a miracle. But chimaera? The apocalypse.
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Better to be the cat gazing coolly down from a high wall, its expression inscrutable. The cat that shunned petting, that needed no one. Why couldn't she be that cat?
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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.
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When it turned out that he could, Karou dropped to her knees to genuflect. Gods of math and physics, she intoned, I accept your gift of this clever fair-haired boy
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Follow me, said Karou. As if he could have done anything else.
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To a new generation of butterflies, hopefully less stupid than last. Maybe they were burgeoning even now in fat little cocoons. Or maybe not.
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Her courage was a guise. She wondered if courage always was, or if there were those who truly felt no fear.
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I am stardust gathered fleetingly into form.
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I'm going to be the scariest grandma in the world.
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...they cupped their wings around their happiness and called it a world, though they both knew it was not a world, only a hiding place, which is a very different thing.
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That is your legend? Akiva asked, incredulous. Madrigal had told him the story of the sun and Ellai while they flew. That seraphim are the blood of a rapist sun?
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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.
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We dreamed together of the world remade.
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There’s a long pause. But it’s not a bad pause, because Mik is looking at me like I’m the treasure from the high shelf that someone’s just taken down and put into his hands. I find I don’t mind being looked at like this. I don’t mind it at all.
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What a lovely display of personhood. He's like a good book cover that grabs your gaze. Read me. I'm fun but smart. You won't be able to put me down.
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When you are young, hone your craft and write shorter pieces instead of novels, because it's really hard to finish a novel.
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I am one of billions. I am stardust gathered fleetingly into form. I will be ungathered. The stardust will go on to be other things someday and I will be free.
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