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I wasn’t sure which of us was being more selfish—her, for wanting something that no one could promise, or me, for not promising her something that was too painfully impossible to want.

Maggie Stiefvater

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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Wasn
Impossible
Sure
Something
Painfully
Promising
Wanting
Selfish
Promise

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and i was right here , almost right within reach , but still one thousand mile away
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I try to think of something catchy to say, but there's nothing but irritation that something that was funny yo an eleven-year-old boy is still funny to a seventeen-year-old one.
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Grace: I picked up my sweater from the floor and crawled back into bed. Shoving my pillow aside, I balled up the sweater to use instead. I fell asleep to the scent of my wolf. Pine needles, cold rain, earthy perfume, coarse bristles on my face. It was almost like he was there.
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Grace, who haunted my thoughts when I couldn’t dream
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right in this moment, I can´t even remember what unhappy feels like.
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Boys like him didn't die they got bronzed and installed outside public libraries.
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I tired the back door -- unlocked. Truley the Man Upstairs was smiling down on me.
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There was something striking about her posture something about the tilt to her head. She was like a beautiful and lonely piece of art, lovely but unreachable.
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He was uncomfortable with the idea that use might not like him.
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I turned back to my extracurricular study of death and disease. Because no matter what Grace thought, I knew that in Mercy Falls, it's never over
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Hello, lovely. You're as pretty as pretty today.
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Don't give me that look. I'm not trying to find out who you are. I don't care who you are. I just want to know why it is you are the way you are.
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I can't really believe that it's over. I'll speak for her. Every face turns to where Sean Kendrick stands a little apart from the crowd, his arms crossed. This island runs on courage, not blood, he says. His face is turned towards me, but his eyes are on Eaton and his groups. In the hush after he speaks, I can hear my heart thudding in my
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is this fragile love/ a way/ to say/ goodbye
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Oh my God. What in—” I was going to be killed by two generations of beautiful women. While naked. “Mom,” Isabel snapped, interrupting. “Do you mind not staring? It’s totally perv.
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Every third step I ran, my breath exploded out of me all in a rush. One step to suck in another cold lungful. One step to let it excape. One step of not breathing.
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Somewhere fate laughs in her far-off country, because now I am the human and it is Grace I will lose again and again, immer wieder, always the same, every winter, losing more of her each year, unless I find a cure.
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You're the nicest boy ever,, I told him, feeling undeserving and terrible. You didn't have to get me anything. I like thinking about you thinking about me when I'm not around.
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But love isn't quantifiable on paper.
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I always listen to you. Except when I don't.
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