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“And Esme remembered in a rush--the wolfsong, the haunting, lyrical spirals of it in the dawn quiet and the feeling of euphoria that had attended it. Even in recollection the howling uplifted her like the crescendo at the end of a symphony and made her heartbeat quicken.”
― Laini Taylor, Lips Touch: Three Times

“When they had hurried to the train station with their violin cases, they had drawn almost as many stares as they would on any normal day when their hair was to their knees and sheeting behind them like red silk. A poetic fruit-seller had told them once that they looked like dryads, and they did still, only now they looked like dryads who had tired of snagging their hair on brambles and sliced it all off on the edge of a knife.”
― Laini Taylor, Lips Touch: Three Times

“That day and night, the bleeding and the screaming, had knocked something askew for Esme, like a picture swinging crooked on a wall. She loved the life she lived with her mother. It was beautiful. It was, she sometimes thought, a sweet emulation of the fairy tales they cherished in their lovely, gold-edged books. They sewed their own clothes from bolts of velvet and silk, ate all their meals as picnics, indoors or out, and danced on the rooftop, cutting passageways through the fog with their bodies. They embroidered tapestries of their own design, wove endless melodies on their violins, charted the course of the moon each month, and went to the theater and the ballet as often as they liked--every night last week to see Swan Lake again and again. Esme herself could dance like a faerie, climb trees like a squirrel, and sit so still in the park that birds would come to perch on her. Her mother had taught her all that, and for years it had been enough. But she wasn't a little girl anymore, and she had begun to catch hints and glints of another world outside her pretty little life, one filled with spice and poetry and strangers.”
― Laini Taylor, Lips Touch: Three Times

“Riley took a deep breath. "Yeah," he said, nodding. "You're right. We can't stop. We can't let this continue. The organization will do horrible things to their hatchlings and undesirables even if there are no rogues to take the fall. If I don't keep fighting Talon, who will?
"I will," I said softly.
He chuckled. "I don't know, Firebrand. Think you can handle a dozen hormonal teenage dragons if I go down someday?
" I lived with an obnoxious twin brother for years," I responded. " I think I could manage." He arched a dubious eyebrow, and I sobered. " But that's not going to happen, Riley, because you're not going to die. This work, what your doing now, is too important. Someone has to stand against Talon, to show our kind what the organization is really like. And your not the only one who has a chance." I raised my chin, my voice firm. " You can't let them win. We can't let them win. And I'm going to do whatever it takes for us to succeed." Riley was motionless, watching me with gold eyes, and I held his stare. " I'm not walking away from this," I told him. " Or you. I'll keep fighting, however long it takes.”
― Julie Kagawa, Soldier

“The Mage's powers were almost gone, and his web, which had once spanned the worlds, had shrunk to little more than rags.
And yet he clung to the hope that somehow the lost Prince could be found; his Aspect made whole, his inheritance restored. Using his web of dreams, he found fragments of the Prince that had been forgotten and overlooked, cocooned in the darkness of London Beyond. And he placed each one of these cocoons with a human family, good folk oblivious to their origin, unmindful of their destiny. Thus were these royal hatchlings kept far away from the two warring tribes until it was time for their coming of age, and for the plan that the Spider Mage had formed to be put into action.”
― Joanne Harris, The Moonlight Market