Staring at her face, she began to fancy her outer layer had begun to melt away while she wasn't paying attention, and something -- some new skeleton -- was emerging from beneath the softness of her accustomed self. With a deep, visceral ache, she wished her true form might prove to be a sleek and shining one, like a stiletto blade slicing free of an ungainly sheath. Like a bird of prey losing its hatchling fluff to hunt in cold, magnificent skies. That she might become something glittering, something startling, something dangerous.
Laini TaylorIt was sadness, lostness, and the worst thing about it was the way it seemed like a defaultโlike it was there all the time, and all her other expressions were just an array of masks she used to cover it up.
Laini TaylorHey! My body may be small, but my soul is large. Itโs why I wear platforms. So I can reach the top of my soul.
Laini TaylorShe 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.
Laini TaylorI want to build spires in their minds and dance shadows through like marionettes, chased by whispers and hints of the unspeakable.
Laini Taylor