Laini Taylor Quotes - Page 5

And just so you know, the invaders are always the bad guys. Always.

...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.

It was one of those dreams that invade the space between seconds, proving sleep has its own physics- where time shrinks and swells, lifetimes unspool in a blink, and cities burn to ash in a mere flutter of lashes.

The sooner you learn to finish things, and as a matter of course finish your creative endeavors, the better. It took me a long time to learn that.

I've always been a reader and a writer.

Don't I deserve to finally be free of you?

Cesky Krumlov, the little jewel box of a city in southern Bohemia.

A wave of weariness took him. How could life be so unrelentingly ugly?

So, you wouldn't marry me." "Ridiculous question. I'm eighteen!" "Oh, it's an age thing?" He frowned. "You don't mean wild oats, do you? We're not going to have some stupid break so you can experience other---" Zuzana put a hand over his mouth. "Gross. Don't even say it.

Nothing made you feel so useless as another person's grief.

Once upon a time, a girl lived in a sandcastle, making monsters to send through a hole in the sky.

I started blogging in 2006 when I had sold my first novel but it had not yet been published, in those anxious months in between while I learned the whole process.

I will give them nightmares to haunt their dreams long after I'm gone.

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.

She had said she didn't feel fear, but it was a lie; this was her fear: being left alone. Because of one thing she was certain, and it was that she could never love, not like that. Trust a stranger with her flesh? The closeness, the quiet. She couldn't imagine it. Breathing someone else's breath as they breathed yours, touching someone, opening for them? The vulnerability of it made her flush. It would mean submission, letting down her guard, and she wouldn't. Ever. Just the thought made her feel small and weak as a child.

How could you tell if your instincts were just hope in disguise, and if your hope was really desperation parading as possibility?

What are we fighting for? What are we killing for? What do you see when you look into the future?

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

We are the beginning ... We always have been. This time, let it be more than a beginning.

So here we are, talking about Roman unicycles and alien sandwiches and my sister’s Italian misfortunes, while hanging in between us is: MY EPIC FAILURE TO CARPE. What’s wrong with me?

Around Mik, my powers desert me. I lose basic motor function, like my brain focuses all neural activity on my lips and shifts into kiss preparedness mode way too early, to the detriment of things like speech, and walking.

I will do just as you wish,' said no cat ever.

Life doesn’t need magic to be magical. (But a little bit sure doesn’t hurt.)

And I've found that since you can't electrify yourself like a fence, the next best thing is to have murderer's eyes.

My face responds without authorization from my brain, so the resulting smile feels like the biggest, most unguarded, goofiest smile I’ve ever unleashed in my entire life. I didn’t even know my face could do this. It’s like there were hidden zippers in my cheeks. Jesus. This must be what feelings are. This is why people write poems! I get it now. I get it, and I want more.