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Quote by Bhuwan Thapaliya

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Safa Tempo: Poems New & Selected

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Bhuwan Thapaliya

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“Her unbound hair slid over a shoulder, and she saw him mark that, too. His voice was rough as he said, 'I've never seen you with your hair down.' She always wore it braided across her head or pinned up. She frowned at the locks that flowed to her waist, the gold amongst the brown glimmering in the dim light. 'It's a nuisance when it's down.' 'It's beautiful.”

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Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“Bilba. His memory called forth an image, not of how he'd last seen her but of how he normally saw her. Wearing the armor Fili had made her, tall and strong, her sword clutched firmly in hand as she charged forth to battle the dark. Mahal, but she was beautiful. She was fire and ice, strength and stubbornness, grace and finesse. She was unwaveringly loyal, kind and compassionate to a fault and braver than anyone he'd ever known. If someone had asked him to describe the perfect child the resulting image he would have come up with wouldn't have held a candle to the person Bilba actually was. There was no comparison. She was as beautiful as Bella had been, inside and out. And he'd left her in Moria. Both of them. (DWALIN)”

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Book:Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
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“Rays of sunshine beamed through the narrow slit at the top of the canyon walls and straight down into the deep shadows of the caverns. It pierced the darkness and, in some strange, fantastical way, the two seemed to make one another more beautiful. The dark and light complemented each other, not in the way that the right shoes complement an appropriately suited outfit, but in the way that life complements death. Without one, you simply can’t have the other. Maybe God was doing something like that in my life, too?”

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Book:Pursued: God’s relentless pursuit and a drug addict’s journey to finding purpose
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“Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armour, Elain's golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders. He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. 'Would you like me to show you the garden?' She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded- just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn't tell if she was looking at his blue Siphons or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, 'Beautiful.' Colour bloomed high on Azriel's golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

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Book:A Court of Wings and Ruin
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