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She stabbed him in the armpit, deep, and he dropped his sword. And died. So that's what is feels like, she thought as her boldness gave away to trembling. It feels awful.

Laini Taylor

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Laini Taylor
Age: 52
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Like
Dropped
Awful
Died
Armpit
Gave
Armpits
Deep
Stabbed
Away
Sword
Thought
Boldness
Feels
Trembling

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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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Take up a weapon and you become an instrument with as pure a purpose as the weapon itself: to find arteries and open them, limbs and sever them to take what is alive and deliver it unto death.
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I'm going to be the scariest grandma in the world.
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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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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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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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Bitter, bitter, this desolation of angels.
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We dreamed together of the world remade.
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Infinities are not for casual exploration. You could fall and keep falling. You could get lost.
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It was interesting the way a small hate could grow inside a big hate and take it over.
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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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A pause came between them, and it was so full of Akiva that Karou imagined she could smell him.
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With the infinite patience of one who has learned to live broken, he awaited her return.
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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 shudder to think. I might wear lace collars and laugh flower petals and pearls. People might try to pat me. I see them think it. My height triggers the puppy-kitten reflex- Must touch-and I've found that since you can't electrify yourself like a fence, the next best thing is to have murderer's eyes.
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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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