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I was going to say the beginning is the good part, when it's all sparks and sparkles, before they are inevitably unmasked as assholes.

Laini Taylor

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Laini Taylor
Age: 52
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Sparkle
Inevitably
Sparks
Beginning
Part
Going
Unmasked
Good
Sparkles
Assholes

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Bitter, bitter, this desolation of angels.
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I want to build spires in their minds and dance shadows through like marionettes, chased by whispers and hints of the unspeakable.
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Boredom is a terrible affliction of the soulless.
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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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I want to touch with my mouth. His mouth, with my mouth. Maybe his neck, too. But first things first: Make him aware I exist. It’s possible that he is already aware, if only in a ‘don't step on the small girl’ kind of way.
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Once upon a time, there were two moons, who were sisters. Nitid was the goddess of tears and life, and the sky was hers. No one worshipped Ellai but secret lovers.
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The audacity to love. Do you know what a gift that is?
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Don't I deserve to finally be free of you?
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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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It’s not stalking if you don't follow them home, right?
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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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I will give them nightmares to haunt their dreams long after I'm gone.
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How could you tell if your instincts were just hope in disguise, and if your hope was really desperation parading as possibility?
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I've always imagined that one day the path of your life would unroll at your feet and carry you away from us. As it should, as it must. But I am glad that day is not today.
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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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Icon of Prague, the medieval bridge crossed the Vltava between Old Town and the Little Quarter. Gothic bridge towers rose on both sides, and the whole span — pedestrian-only — was lined by monumental statues of saints.
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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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...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 as if she had emitted a pulse of radiation that reached him even where he stood, and it bathed him and it burned him.
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Oh, gross. Your stomach is full of butterfly barf!
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