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These soldiers had done what they had done, and been done unto in return. This was how it went. In the cycle of slaughter, reprisal begat reprisal, forever.

Laini Taylor

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Laini Taylor
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Unto
Soldier
Return
Begat
Went
Reprisal
Forever
Slaughter
Done
Cycle
Soldiers
Cycles

More quotes by Laini Taylor

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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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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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What does true even mean when it comes to a face? Only souls are true, and when you spill them to the air they melt away.
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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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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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Love is a luxury. No. Love is an element. An element. Like air to breathe, earth to stand on.
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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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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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Like attracts like, beauty finds beauty, and freaks look on from the smoking section, aching.
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The truth, she found, felt smooth, like a skipping stone in the palm of your hand.
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Because hope comes from in you, and wishes are just magic.
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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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Like a magpie, I am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales, dead languages, weird folk beliefs, fascinating religions, and more.
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Is that all souls are for? For when we die? No. They're for living, too.
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It was brave, countered Issa. It was rare. It was love, and it was beautiful.
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I'm afraid they're in love, he said, concerned. They don't want to leave you. He lifted one hand from her waist to gently brush a pair from her neck, where their wings fanned against her jaw. Melancholy, he said, I know just how they feel.
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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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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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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.
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Hey! My body may be small, but my soul is large. It’s why I wear platforms. So I can reach the top of my soul.
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