Quote

How long? His smile was amazingly sweet. The longest. For ever? Sam's lips smiled, but above his grin, his yellow eyes turned sad, as if he knew it was a lie. Longer.

Maggie Stiefvater

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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Eyes
Smiled
Lying
Yellow
Lips
Eye
Turned
Ever
Smile
Long
Sweet
Amazingly
Longer
Grin
Knew
Longest

More quotes by Maggie Stiefvater

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I’ve been dead for seven years, that’s as warm as they get.
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The guitar, I said, will only obey its master. Yeah, Cole agreed, but Grace isn't here. He grinned at me slyly.
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I remembered the pain as clearly as if I were shifting — the pain of loss. I felt the agony of the single moment that I lost myself. Lost what made me Sam. The part of me that could remember Grace's name.
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His face was just strange enough that she wanted to keep looking at it.
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I was suddenly struck by how dissimilar we were. It occurred to me that if Grace and I were objects, she would be an elaborate digital clock, synced up with the World Clock in London with technical perfection, and I’d be a snow globe – shaken memories in a glass ball.
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Grace, who haunted my thoughts when I couldn’t dream
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Gansey had no idea how old Blue was. He knew she'd just finished eleventh grade. Maybe she was sixteen. Maybe she was eighteen. Maybe she was twenty-two and just very short and remedial.
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He smiled tolerantly at her. Rubbing his smooth chin its recently assassinated chin hairs, he studied her. She barely came up to Ronan's shoulder, but she was every bit as big as he, every bit as present.
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I tried to picture her in a class, any class, anywhere on campus, and failed miserably. I pictured her frolicking in a forest glade around some guy she'd just sacrificed to a heathen god. That image worked way better.
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You're assuming they would listen to me, I said. Cole lifted his hands off the roof of the Volkswagen cloudy fingerprints evaporated seconds ater he did. We all listen to you, Sam. He jumped to the pavement. You just don't always talk to us.
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It occurred to me that there was a story behind the scar -- maybe not as dramatic as the story of my wrists, but a story nonetheless -- and the fact that everyone had a story behind some mark on their inside or outside suddenly exhausted me, the gravity of all those untold pasts.
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Do you know how some people can do anything?” “What do you mean?” “I mean, you tell them to write a tune, they give you a symphony right there. You tell them to write a book, they write you a novel in a day. You tell them to move a spoon without touching it, they move it. If they want something, they make it happen. Miracles, almost.
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This object that we hold in our hands, a book... that tactile pleasure, it's just not going to go away.
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Sleep deprivation made his life an imaginary thing, his days a ribbon floating aimlessly in water. - Whelk
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When Gansey was polite, it made him powerful. When Adam was polite, he was giving power 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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I never knew there were so many different ways to say good-bye.
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He was struck by the details of the moment. This was something he needed to remember, when he dreamt. This feeling right here: heart thudding, pollen sticky on his fingertips, July pricking sweat at his breastbone, the smell of gasoline and someone else's charcoal grill.
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whether they'll write the story of my life as a tragedy or an epic fantasy... I was wondering if it was going to be a kiss at the end, or sad music and a sweeping camera shot over the fields I once roamed freely. I'm hoping for the kiss, but expecting the sweeping camera shot.
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But by blood, no wolf am I
Maggie Stiefvater