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There was something awful about terror trapped behind silence.

Maggie Stiefvater

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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Trapped
Awful
Terror
Behinds
Behind
Silence
Something

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Shouldn't you be looking at other cars? You know, car shopping usually involves ... shopping. I don't shop very well, Grace said. I just see what I need and get it.
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He lifted his eyes to the girl. She looked afraid. She always looked afraid, these days. The world was a scary place. She said: Take me with you. He woke up.
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This is Rilke. I wish I had written it for you.
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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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One thousand ways to say good-bye One thousands ways to cry One thousand ways to hang your hat before you go outside I say good-bye good-bye good-bye I shout it out so loud Cause the next time that I find my voice I might not remember how.
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I am not a huge fan of the one-sided pining romances where the guy is a perfect love-object because we don't see inside his head.
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His was the disease we couldn’t cure. His was the good-bye that meant the most
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look, getting bitten doesn't make you into a monster. It just makes you a wolf. You are what you are. When you're a wolf, or when you're shifting, you don't have human inhibitions, so if you're naturally angry or violent, you get worse.
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Aren't you afraid?' 'Of what?' 'Of losing yourself.' 'That's what I'm hoping for.
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I never knew there were so many different ways to say good-bye.
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Sailing to an island unknown Failing to find your way home you walk under a sea leagues beneath us
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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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Calla readjusted, wrapping the silk around her other thigh instead. Which one's he again? The pretty one? Blue and Gansey exchanged a look. Blue's look said, I'm so, so sorry. Gansey's said, Am I the pretty one?
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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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I could still smell her on my fur. It clung to me, a memory of another world. I was drunk with it, with the scent of her. I'd got too close. The smell of summer on her skin, the half-recalled cadence of her voice, the sensation of her fingers on my fur. Every bit of me sang with the memory of her closeness. Too close. I couldn't stay away.
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Is this thing safe? Safe as life, Gansey replied.
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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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The walls of the arch are covered with blood-red jellies that wink and glisten at me by the light of the moon. My father told me they were completely harmless. I don't believe him. Nothing is completely harmless.
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Ronan Lynch lived with every sort of secret.
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Sean reaches out between us and takes my wrist. He press his thumb on my pulse. My heartbeat trips and surges against his skin. I'm pinned by his touch, a sort of fearful magic. We stand and stand, and I wait for my pulse against his finger to slow, but it doesn't Finally, he releases my wrist and says, I'll see you on the cliffs tomorrow.
Maggie Stiefvater