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He wanted to tell her that everything he had done he had done because he was broken, because watching her die had destroyed him, but there was no way to say it that didn’t sound like he was trying to pin the blame outside himself

Laini Taylor

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Laini Taylor
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Everything
Watching
Done
Outside
Trying
Broken
Way
Dies
Like
Sound
Tell
Pins
Didn
Destroyed
Wanted
Blame

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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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When I turned to writing fantasy, and writing for young people, it was joyous. It was like discovering an underground lake of ideas that went on forever.
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The sooner you learn to finish things, and as a matter of course finish your creative endeavors, the better. It took me a long time to learn that.
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Is that all souls are for? For when we die? No. They're for living, too.
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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.
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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
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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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With the infinite patience of one who has learned to live broken, he awaited her return.
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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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I miss sunrise even more. The green scent of dawn in the forest? The color blushing back into the world, different every day.
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As long as you're alive, there's always a chance things will get better.
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A wave of weariness took him. How could life be so unrelentingly ugly?
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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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Kizzy wanted it all so bad her soul leaned half out of her body hungering after it, and that was what drove the goblins wild, her soul hanging out there like an untucked shirt.
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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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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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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.
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Like attracts like, beauty finds beauty, and freaks look on from the smoking section, aching.
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Once upon a time, there were two moons, who were sisters. Nitid was the goddess of tears and life, and the sky was hers. No one worshipped Ellai but secret lovers.
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Thank you, but we respectfully decline your overture, being more enjoyably occupied at present.
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