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Face flushed, I shook my head and stared at my white-knuckled grip on the bed. Of all my pet peeves, condescending adults were probably at the top of the list.

Maggie Stiefvater

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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Face
Shook
Faces
Pet
White
List
Lists
Peeves
Bed
Flushed
Adults
Condescending
Probably
Stared
Head
Grip

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I think that whenever a book is not a challenge, I'm telling the wrong story.
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No, you used nouns and verbs together in a pleasing but illogical format.
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I guess I make things that need energy stronger. I'm like a walking battery.
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I slithered out of the sinkhole on my stomach. It was not the sexiest move I'd ever performed, but I was impressed nonetheless.
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My parents had always been so careful with me, until the day they decided I needed to die.
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Where do you live? Adam's mouth was very set. A place made for leaving That's not really an answer. It's not really a place.
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Flickering lights anonymous doors my heart escaping in drips i'm still waking up but she's still sleeping this ICU is hotel for the dead
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It seemed like the best weapons in my life had always been the most innocuous: empty plastic bins, a blank CD, an unmarked syringe, my smile in a dark room.
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It was nothing, but it was Adam Parrish's nothing. How he hated and loved it. How proud he was of it, how wretched it was.
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and i was right here , almost right within reach , but still one thousand mile away
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I started down but Sam caught my arm and knelt down himself to look. For crying out loud, he said. It's a racoon. Poor thing, I said. It could be a rabid baby-killer, Cole told me primly. Shut up, Sam said pleasantly.
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That's a depressing and practical thought, Sam said. I'd rather it was something magical.
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I want you. Feeling the grip of his hand in mine, the brush of skin on mine, seeing the way he moved in front of me, equal parts human and wolf, and remembering his smell - I ached with wanting to kiss him.
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It was exactly what I wanted-beautiful distraction.
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I walk through the seasons and always the birds are singing and screaming and keening for love When you're with me it seems so absurd that I should be jealous of the jay and the dove.
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I had risked everything, and I had nothing to show for it but my open hand, lying empty and palm up toward the ceiling.
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Crashing into the trembling void Stretching my hand to you Losing myself to frigid regret Is this fragile love A way To say Good-bye
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I am alone in the world, and yet not alone enough to make each hour holy. I am lowly in this world, and yet not lowly enough for me to be just a thing to you, dark and shrewd. I want my will and I want to go with my will as it moves towards action.
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