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A wave of weariness took him. How could life be so unrelentingly ugly?

Laini Taylor

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Laini Taylor
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Ugly
Took
Life
Unrelentingly
Weariness
Wave

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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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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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Where am I and doing what? You might well ask. Freaky chick, you say? You can't imagine. I am priestess of a sandcastle in a land of dust and starlight.
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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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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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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.
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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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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.
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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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Stars got tangled in her hair whenever she played in the sky.
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As long as you're alive, there's always a chance things will get better.
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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 tastes like nectar and salt. Nectar and salt and apples. Pollen and stars and hinges. She tastes like fairy tales. Swan maiden at midnight. Cream on the tip of a fox’s tongue. She tastes like hope.
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Life doesn’t need magic to be magical. (But a little bit sure doesn’t hurt.)
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It was brave, countered Issa. It was rare. It was love, and it was beautiful.
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Ziri's soul felt like the high roaming wind of the Adelphas Mountains and the beat of stormhunters' wings, like the beautiful, mournful, eternal song of the wind flutes that had filled their caves with music he could not possibly remember. It felt like home.
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Oh, gross. Your stomach is full of butterfly barf!
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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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I am stardust gathered fleetingly into form.
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If he does he's a fool, said Hazael. The message is clear. Please enjoy this lovely fruit while contemplating all the ways we might kill you in your sleep.
Laini Taylor