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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: 53
Born: 1971
Born: December 11
Author
Novelist
Writer
Chico
California
Disguise
Instinct
Possibility
Hope
Tell
Really
Parading
Desperation
Instincts

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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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We dreamed together of the world remade.
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Was there any fate more bitter than to get what you long for most, when it's too late?
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Oh, gross. Your stomach is full of butterfly barf!
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You mean he came to your school? The scandalous rodent-loaf!
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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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That faeries have forgotten the Tapestry that is the greatest tragedy of all. It's the fabric of all creation and it's woven of dreams, the dreams of the Djinn. Dreams are real, Magpie. They're seed and water and sun. They're everything.
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If it's not chocolate, it's not breakfast.
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I will do just as you wish,' said no cat ever.
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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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And they were quiet but their blood and nerves and butterflies were not—they were rampantly alive, rushing and thrumming in a wild and perfect melody, matched note for note.
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Stars got tangled in her hair whenever she played in the sky.
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Karou saw them with her human eyes, this army she had rendered more monstrous than ever nature had, and she knew what the world would see in them if they flew to fight the Dominion: demons, nightmares, evil. The sight of the seraphim would be heralded as a miracle. But chimaera? The apocalypse.
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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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Like a magpie, I am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales, dead languages, weird folk beliefs, fascinating religions, and more.
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It was interesting the way a small hate could grow inside a big hate and take it over.
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Life doesn’t need magic to be magical. (But a little bit sure doesn’t hurt.)
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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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...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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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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