...Your body is nothing but an envelope, Karou. Your soul is another matter, and is not, as far as I know, in any immediate danger."
"An envelope?" She didn't like to think of her body as an envelope--something others might be able to open up and rifle through, remove things from like so many clipped coupons.
"I assumed you felt the same way," he'd said. "The way you scribble on it."
Brimstone didn't approve of her tattoos, which was funny, since he was responsible for her first, the eyes on her palms.
He remembered a story Madrigal had told him once: the human tale of the golem. It was a thing shaped of clay in the form of a man, brought to life by carving the symbol aleph into its brow. Aleph was the first symbol of an ancestral human alphabet, and the first letter of the Hebrew word truth; it was the beginning. Watching Karou rise to her feet, radiant in a fall of lapis hai, in a woven dress the colour of tangerines, with a loop of silver beads at her throat and a look of joy and relief and... love... on her beautiful face, Akiva knew that she was his aleph, his truth and beginning. His soul.
Laini TaylorTag: favourite
She tastes like nectar and salt. Nectar and salt and apples. Pollen and stars and hinges. She tastes like fairy tales. Swan maiden at midnight. Cream on the tip of a fox’s tongue. She tastes like hope.
Laini Taylor...singing ballads whose words had never known paper but lived only on the rasping edge of their own voices.
Laini TaylorThe goblins want girls who dream so hard about being pretty their yearning leaves a palpable trail, a scent goblins can follow like sharks on a soft bloom of blood. The girls with hungry eyes who pray each night to wake up as someone else. Urgent, unkissed, wishful girls. Like Kizzy.
Laini TaylorTag: goblin-fruit
What are we fighting for? What are we killing for? What do you see when you look into the future?
Laini TaylorEn algún momento, Akiva tal vez hubiera sentido vergüenza por enamorarse de Madrigal. Ahora aquella vergüenza era lo único que lo avergonzaba. Amarla había sido el único acto puro de su vida.
Laini TaylorDe Chicago a Nueva York, de Londres a Pekín, de los dioramas de vida animal de los museos, de las fauces congeladas en un gruñido de leones y perros salvajes, de las mandíbulas de dragones de Komodo, pitones reales y lobos árticos disecados, la muchacha, el fantasma… estaba robando dientes.
Laini TaylorO… quizás el Destino se presentara en la vida como un vestido colocado sobre una cama, y uno pudiera elegir si ponérselo o ir desnudo.
Laini TaylorHay intimidad en el dolor. Cualquiera que haya consolado a alguien que sufre lo sabe —la indefensa ternura, los abrazos y susurros, y el lento balanceo conjunto mientras dos se vuelven uno contra el enemigo, el dolor—.
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