James often wondered at the chain of flukes it must have taken to bring him through with his own life and limbs intact. Once he might have believed it to be the work of Providence but it seemed to him now that to thank God for his life would be to suggest God had shrugged off all the others flicked them away like cigarette butts by the thousands and that seemed like abominable conceit. James Dorsey took no credit for being alive. His higher power these days was Chance.
Laini TaylorThen there were things-- epic, terrible things-- that he didn't tell her but skirted around, like caressing the edges of a wound, hesitant, testing for pain.
Laini TaylorIt wasnโt like in the storybooks. No witches lurked at crossroads disguised as crones, waiting to reward travelers who shared their bread. Genies didnโt burst from lamps, and talking fish didnโt bargain for their lives. In all the world, there was only one place humans could get wishes: Brimstoneโs shop. And there was only one currency he accepted. It wasnโt gold, or riddles, or kindness, or any other fairy-tale nonsense, and no, it wasnโt souls, either. It was weirder than any of that. It was teeth.
Laini TaylorThere are guerrilla armies that make little boys kill their own families. Such acts rip out the soul and make space for beasts to grow inside. Armies need beasts, donโt they? Pet beasts, to do their terrible work!
Laini Taylor