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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.
Laini Taylor
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Laini Taylor
Age: 52
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
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Chico
California
Like
Salt
Maiden
Apples
Maidens
Fairy
Swans
Tales
Hinges
Tongue
Foxes
Taste
Tastes
Pollen
Stars
Midnight
Swan
Hope
Cream
Nectar
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Better to be the cat gazing coolly down from a high wall, its expression inscrutable. The cat that shunned petting, that needed no one. Why couldn't she be that cat?
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It was brave, countered Issa. It was rare. It was love, and it was beautiful.
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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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Oh, gross. Your stomach is full of butterfly barf!
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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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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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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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Love is a luxury. No. Love is an element. An element. Like air to breathe, earth to stand on.
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It didn't escape Karou's notice that he found subtle ways of touching her.
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Once upon a time, a little girl was raised by monsters. But angels burned the doorways to their world, and she was all alone.
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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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...and she felt the words come from some iron place within her that hadn't existed an hour ago. She didn't speak loudly, but there was such a change in her voice. Coming from that iron place, it was heavy and true it wasn't persuasive, or desperate, or antagonistic. It just was.
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He wanted to tell her that everything he had done he had done because he was broken, because watching her die had destroyed him, but there was no way to say it that didn’t sound like he was trying to pin the blame outside himself
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No, tiny violent one.
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I am one of billions. I am stardust gathered fleetingly into form. I will be ungathered. The stardust will go on to be other things someday and I will be free.
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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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Kizzy wanted it all so bad her soul leaned half out of her body hungering after it, and that was what drove the goblins wild, her soul hanging out there like an untucked shirt.
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With the infinite patience of one who has learned to live broken, he awaited her return.
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