Laini Taylor

Bitter, bitter, this desolation of angels.

To be one of a pair of bodies that knew that melting fusion. To reach and find. To be and reached for and found. To belong to a mutual certainty. To wake up holding hands.

His eyes are blue, and blue eyes up close are a celestial phenomenon: nebulae as seen through telescopes, the light of unnamed stars diffused through dusts and elements and endlessness. Layers of light. Blue eyes are starlight.

I don__ believe in prayer, but I do believe in magic, and I want to believe in miracles.

I...I sang," she whispered, "if that matters," and Karou felt her heart pulled to pieces. This Misbegotten warrior, fiercest of them all, had crouched in an icy stream bed to sing a chimera soul into her canteen, because she hadn't known what else to do.The singing wouldn't have mattered, but she wasn't going to tell Liraz that. If Ziri's soul was in that canteen, Karou would happily learn whatever song Liraz had sung and make it part of her resurrection ritual forever, just so that the angel would never feel that she'd been foolish.

He didn't believe in magic and demons. He believed in day and night, endurance and fury, cold mud and loneliness and the speed with which blood leaves the body

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__oward what?

..and when he let her go, it was as if she had been filled and didn't realize it until he pulled away and the absence rushed back in.

I__ not looking for fate. I__ seventeen. I__ looking for kissing, and to move forward a few paces on the game board. You know, do some Living. (With my lips.)

As long as you're alive, there's always a chance things will get better.

What do you think I live on, rainwater and daydreams?

to stay true in the face of evil is a feat of strength

I am a link in a chain

She had inherited a story that was strewn with corpses and clotted with enmity, and was only trying to stay alive in it.

Skathis might have been an artist, but he'd been a vile one. Strange the dreamer was an artist, too, and he was the antidote to vile.

He believed in magic, like a child, and in ghosts, like a peasant.

ignorance and power, they´re a poor combination.

If you can kill it, or it can kill you, it's real.