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You have only to begin, Lir. Mercy breeds mercy as slaughter breeds slaughter. We can’t expect the world to be better than we make it.
Laini Taylor
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Laini Taylor
Age: 52
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Better
Make
World
Breeds
Slaughter
Mercy
Expect
Begin
More quotes by Laini Taylor
It was brave, countered Issa. It was rare. It was love, and it was beautiful.
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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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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.
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She knocked and waited, because when the door was opened from within, it had the potential to lead someplace quite different.
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Bitter, bitter, this desolation of angels.
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Magic won't save us. The power it would take to conjure on such a scale, the tithe would destroy us. The only hope...is hope. You don't need tokens for it - it's in your heart or nowhere. And in your heart, child, it had been stronger than I have ever seen.
Laini Taylor
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 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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The goblins want girls who dream so hard about being pretty their yearning leaves a palpable trail, a scent goblins can follow like sharks on a soft bloom of blood. The girls with hungry eyes who pray each night to wake up as someone else. Urgent, unkissed, wishful girls. Like Kizzy.
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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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You were true to her, even if she was not to you. Never repent of your own goodness, child. To stay true in the face of evil is a feat of great strength.” “Strength,” she said with a little laugh. “I gave her strength, and look what she did with it.
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...the air seeming to gather around her like held breath. As if this whole place were a story about her.
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The choice I mean is to protect our own innocents from the seraphim, instead of slaughtering theirs. There are no innocent seraphim, said the wolf. That's what they say when they kill our children.
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This is the story of the curse and the kiss, the demon and the girl. It's a love story with dancing and death in it, and singing and souls and shadows reeled out on kite strings.
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It’s not stalking if you don't follow them home, right?
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Life doesn’t need magic to be magical. (But a little bit sure doesn’t hurt.)
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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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I've always been a reader and a writer.
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Kissing can ruin lives. Lips touch sometimes teeth clash. New hunger is born with a throb and caution falls away. A cursed girl with lips still moist from her first kiss might feel suddenly wild like a little monsoon. She might forget her curse just long enough to get careless and let it come true. She might kill everyone she loves.
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Mercy, she had discovered, made mad alchemy: a drop of it could dilute a lake of hate.
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