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Laini Taylor

Hi! I write fantasy books. My latest is STRANGE THE DREAMER, about a young librarian, a mythic lost city, and the half-human children of murdered gods. Check it out :-) Before that I wrote the DAUGHTER OF SMOKE & BONE trilogy, which has been translated into 32 languages. It's about a blue-haired art student raised by monsters, a broken angel, and a war that has raged for 1000 years in another world. I also wrote LIPS TOUCH: THREE TIMES, which was a National Book Award finalist, and the DREAMDARK books. As well as various short stories and novellas.

Thanks for reading!!

www.lainitaylor.com

@lainitaylor


“Just then, lit only by the flicker of his wings,the sight of him was so..right somehow. He was right. It made no sense at all, but the feeling flooded through Karou”
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“She had a sadness that was so deep, but it still could turn to light in a second, and when I saw her smile I wondered what it would be like to make her smile. I thought... I thought it would be like the discovery of smiling.”
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“We only get to be one person; we don't even get to choose that person. By the time we get ahold of ourselves, we are pieces already in play.”
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“With the infinite patience of one who has learned to live broken, he awaited her return.”
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“Once upon a time, an angel lay dying in the mist.And a devil knelt over him and smiled.”
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“Hope is the real magic, child.”
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“Like mold on books, grow myths on history.”
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“Skip meeting him? The butterflies, the pounding heart, the blushing? The part where you enter each other's magnetic fields for the first time, and it's like invisble lines of energy are drawing you together-”
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“It's not like there's a law against flying.""Yes there is. The law of gravity.”
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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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“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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“Heavily and hypnotically,with her soul flattening itself back like the ears of a hissing cat,Kizzy leaned in and drank of Jack Husk's full,moist mouth,and his red,red lips were hungry against hers,drinking her in return.Their eyes closed.Fingers clutched at collars and hair,at the picnic blanket,at the grass.And as they sank down,pinning their shadows beneath them,the horizon tipped on its side,and slowly,thickly,hour by hour,the day spilled out and ebbed away.It was Kizzy's first kiss, and maybe it was her last, and it was delicious.”
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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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“Creatures with no dreams of their own can do naught but destroy the dreams of others.”
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“All the bogeymen together, sitting down to tea.”
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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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“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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“Boredom is a terrible affliction of the soulless.”
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“There are other ways of showing someone you love them, such as fetching them out of Hell.”
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“The thing is, you throw brains and souls into an animal and stir, you don’t really know what you’re going to get.”
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“With his fort of books the hobgoblin had come to a smooching scene and shouted for them to pipe down.”
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“Kizzy wanted to be a woman who would dive off the prow of a sailboat into the sea, who would fall back in a tangle of sheets, laughing, and who could dance a tango, lazily stroke a leopard with her bare foot, freeze an enemy's blood with her eyes, make promises she couldn't possibly keep, and then shift the world to keep them. She wanted to write memoirs and autograph them at a tiny bookshop in Rome, with a line of admirers snaking down a pink-lit alley. She wanted to make love on a balcony, ruin someone, trade in esoteric knowledge, watch strangers as coolly as a cat. She wanted to be inscrutable, have a drink named after her, a love song written for her, and a handsome adventurer's small airplane, champagne-christened Kizzy, which would vanish one day in a windstorm in Arabia so that she would have to mount a rescue operation involving camels, and wear an indigo veil against the stinging sand, just like the nomads.Kizzy wanted.”
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“Stars got tangled in her hair whenever she played in the sky.”
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