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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?
Laini Taylor
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Laini Taylor
Age: 52
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Instincts
Disguise
Instinct
Possibility
Hope
Tell
Really
Parading
Desperation
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It was funny, she thought, but her smile turned wistful because she had nobody to tell.
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It didn't escape Karou's notice that he found subtle ways of touching her.
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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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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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Zuzana arched an eyebrow. She was a master of the eyebrow arch, and Karou envied her for it. Her own eyebrows did not function independently of each other, which handicapped her expressions of suspicion and disdain.
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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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It's all a quilt of fairy tales with a patch here and there of truth.
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Jael returned the lazy smile. You're not my type. Well, you're not anybody's type, said Hazael. No, wait. I take it back. My sword says she'd like to know you better.
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Life doesn’t need magic to be magical. (But a little bit sure doesn’t hurt.)
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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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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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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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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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What does true even mean when it comes to a face? Only souls are true, and when you spill them to the air they melt away.
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