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Without turning on the light, I went to my bed and lay down, my arm thrown across the mattress, my hand aching because Grace wasn't underneath it
Maggie Stiefvater
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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Without
Across
Mattress
Arms
Mattresses
Grace
Aching
Wasn
Underneath
Went
Turning
Hand
Thrown
Hands
Lays
Light
Bed
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The way Gansey saw it was this: if you had a special knack for finding things, it meant you owed the world to look.
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He strode over to the ruined church. This, Blue had discovered, was how Gansey got places - striding. Walking was for ordinary people.
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There's no such thing as a good book or a bad book. There's a book that matters to a reader.
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Death smells like birthday cake.
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Sam? Rachel asked. Do you know you have the saddest sad face ever?
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I am an introvert. I should get that out there now.
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Its beyond him now. its time for you to do you own thing. My thing? my thing only worked if Grace was here to make it work. without Grace, i have an emotionally unbalanced wolf and a Volkswagen.
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How do you feel about helicopters? There was a long pause. How do you mean? Ethically? As a mode of transportation. Faster than camels, but less sustainable.
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With Blue here, he was beginning to feel as if possibly he'd overdone it with the helicopter. He wondered if it would make Blue feel better or worse to know that it was Helen's helicopter, that he hadn't paid anything today for the use of it. Probably worse. Remembering his vow to at least do no harm with his words, he kept his mouth shut.
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The room went dark and, after a moment, Grace whispered that she loved me, sounding a little sad. I wrapped my arms tightly around her shoulders, sorry that loving me was such a complicated thing.
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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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Grace, who haunted my thoughts when I couldn’t dream
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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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Sam: “I—it’s—I’m not an animal.
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Are you sure you want to go out with someone with that kind of history? ...He could have a psychotic break. I read that people get those when they're twenty-eight.
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He left Chainsaw behind, much to her irritation. Ronan didn't want her to learn any bad language.
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...the sound of our lack of conversation amplified by the echo of our footsteps on the stone around us.
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I would like to say that I was inspired to write 'Shiver' by some overwhelming belief in true love, but here's my true confession: I wrote 'Shiver' because I like to make people cry.
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I try very hard to keep my eyes from darting to Sean because I'm quite certain that no one will be able to miss how I look at him and how I find him looking back.
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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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