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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.

Laini Taylor

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Laini Taylor
Age: 52
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Used
Expressions
Thing
Default
Way
Mask
Time
Cover
Like
Sadness
Seemed
Expression
Array
Worst
Masks

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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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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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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.
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Jael returned the lazy smile. You're not my type. Well, you're not anybody's type, said Hazael. No, wait. I take it back. My sword says she'd like to know you better.
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Don't I deserve to finally be free of you?
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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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That faeries have forgotten the Tapestry that is the greatest tragedy of all. It's the fabric of all creation and it's woven of dreams, the dreams of the Djinn. Dreams are real, Magpie. They're seed and water and sun. They're everything.
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You mean he came to your school? The scandalous rodent-loaf!
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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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A pause came between them, and it was so full of Akiva that Karou imagined she could smell him.
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A bruxis. That was the one wish more powerful than a gavriel, and its trade value was singular: The only way to purchase one was with one’s own teeth. All of them, self-extracted.
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In all that was to happen, there would be that feeling of inevitability and rightness, and the sense that the universe was conspiring in it. It would be easy.
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If it's not chocolate, it's not breakfast.
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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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Cats and ghosts both partook of the saucers of milk and that was okay. They consumed different parts of it: the cats its substance, the ghosts its essence, and none went to waste.
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Is that all souls are for? For when we die? No. They're for living, too.
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He actually listened, rather than pretending to listen while waiting a suitable interval before it was his time to talk again.
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It was funny, she thought, but her smile turned wistful because she had nobody to tell.
Laini Taylor
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Because hope comes from in you, and wishes are just magic.
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...wings—-vast shimmering wings, their reach so great they swept the walls on either side of the alley, each feather like the wind-tugged lick of a candle flame.
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