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I will give them nightmares to haunt their dreams long after I'm gone.

Laini Taylor

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Laini Taylor
Age: 52
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Dreams
Gone
Dream
Give
Giving
Long
Haunt
Nightmares
Nightmare

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Like attracts like, beauty finds beauty, and freaks look on from the smoking section, aching.
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...they cupped their wings around their happiness and called it a world, though they both knew it was not a world, only a hiding place, which is a very different thing.
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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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It was brave, countered Issa. It was rare. It was love, and it was beautiful.
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Boredom is a terrible affliction of the soulless.
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Everything lined up. It has been easy, as if it were meant- Meant! she said, amazed. She spun to face him, which, in the crush, brought her against his chest as if they were still dancing. She fought backward for space. As if what were meant? You, he said. And me.
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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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You mean he came to your school? The scandalous rodent-loaf!
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Don't I deserve to finally be free of you?
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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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The truth, she found, felt smooth, like a skipping stone in the palm of your hand.
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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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Madrigal sniffed herself. I'm almost sure I don't smell. Maybe not, but between shining cleanliness and not smelling, there is a vast gray area.
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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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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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A wave of weariness took him. How could life be so unrelentingly ugly?
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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.
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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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That is your legend? Akiva asked, incredulous. Madrigal had told him the story of the sun and Ellai while they flew. That seraphim are the blood of a rapist sun?
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She had been innocent once, a little girl playing with feathers on the floor of a devil's lair. She wasn't innocent now, but she didn't know what to do about it. This was her life: magic and shame and secrets and teeth and a deep, nagging hollow at the center of herself where something was most certainly missing.
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