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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.

Laini Taylor

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Laini Taylor
Age: 52
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Instead
Seraphim
Choices
Slaughtering
Children
Innocents
Mean
Wolf
Innocent
Kill
Choice
Protect

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Boredom is a terrible affliction of the soulless.
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She had fallen in love with him twice. She loved him now with both loves, so overpowering it was almost unbearable.
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I will give them nightmares to haunt their dreams long after I'm gone.
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I'm going to be the scariest grandma in the world.
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Once upon a time, a girl lived in a sandcastle, making monsters to send through a hole in the sky.
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A man once said, 'All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence then success is sure.' Mark Twain, you know. He had a fine mustache. Men of wisdom so often do.
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Thank you, but we respectfully decline your overture, being more enjoyably occupied at present.
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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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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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An idea fell like a seed and over the next weeks it went on growing like a fig vine lush and conquering twining round her old beliefs and covering them in new growth until they were as invisible as a tiger in a thicket and just as deadly.
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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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Stars got tangled in her hair whenever she played in the sky.
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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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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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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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Was there any fate more bitter than to get what you long for most, when it's too late?
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There is the past, and there is the future. The present is never more than the single second dividing one from the other. We live poised on that second as it's hurtling forward-toward what?
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