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To Grace, these were the things that mattered: my hands on her cheeks, my lips on her mouth. The fleeting touches that meant I loved her.
Maggie Stiefvater
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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Hands
Fleeting
Things
Cheeks
Mouth
Mouths
Lips
Meant
Grace
Mattered
Loved
Touches
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In that moment, Blue was a little in love with all of them. Their magic. Their quest. Their awfulness and strangeness. Her raven boys.
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I didn't think I belonged here in her world, a boy stuck between two lives, dragging the dangers of the wolves with me, but when she said my name, waiting for me to follow, I knew I'd do anything to stay with her.
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I saw myself as an outsider as a teen. I was home-schooled and got my G.E.D. when I was 16 I wasn't interested in high school at all and figured that college might be more entertaining.
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Fate, Blue replied, glowering at her mother, is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast.
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He was uncomfortable with the idea that use might not like him.
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Grace reached over and began stroking her fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes and let her drive me crazy.
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Hi,' I said, and I hugged her. I missed her more now that I actually had her in my arms than when I hadn't.
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This is about as comforting as a cold brick when you're lonely.
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I lost a horse today.' 'That sounds careless. What happened?' 'She jumped off a cliff.' 'A cliff! Is that normal?
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Does anyone ask you why you stay, Sean Kendrick? They do. And why do you? The sky and the sand and the sea and Corr.
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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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How do you know I wouldn't have just been happy with the truth? I don’t care if my father was a deadbeat named Butternut. It doesn't change anything right now.” “His name wasn't really Butternut, was it?” Gansey asked Adam in a low voice.
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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.
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Thery're both iron, isn't that funny? Funny haha or funny strange? James handed them back to me Funny 'occult' Ah. Funny strange James looked at me sternly, Don't start that. I'm supposed to be the humorous one
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Sam laughed, a funny, self-deprecating laugh. You did read a lot. And spent too much time just inside the kitchen window, where I couldn't see you very well. And not enough time mostly naked in front of my bedroom window? I teased. Sam turned bright red. That, he said, is so not the point of this conversation.
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The tourists always seem to want something. On Thisby, it's less about wanting, and more about being. I wonder after I say it if he'll think I sound like have no drive or ambition.
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I'm an equation that only she solves, these X's and Y's by other names called. My way of dividing is desperately flawed as I multiply the days without her - Page 165
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that's because it's from the night, and the night keeps secrets
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My chest ached, my body speaking a language my head didn't quite understand. I waited. But Grace, the only person in the world I wanted to know me, just ran a wanting finger over the cover of one of the new hardcovers and walked out of the store without ever realising I was there, right within reach.
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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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