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This is a love story. I never knew there were so many kinds of love or that love could make people do so many different things. I never knew there were so many different ways to say goodbye.
Maggie Stiefvater
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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Make
Ways
Things
Knew
Never
Story
Love
Stories
People
Many
Different
Kind
Goodbye
Way
Kinds
More quotes by Maggie Stiefvater
I have a certain avoidance of reality that makes fantasy an ideal choice for me.
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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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I'm pleased to see that the cab is cluttered with cough drop wrappers and empty milk bottles and bits of mud-smeared newspapers made brittle by age. Neatness makes me feel like I have to be on my best behavior. Clutter is my natural habitat.
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The most dangerous and wonderful creature alive is the human.
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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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I am an introvert. I should get that out there now.
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Did you know you get one happy day for every one you catch?... One happy day for every falling leaf you catch -sam
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I try to think of something catchy to say, but there's nothing but irritation that something that was funny yo an eleven-year-old boy is still funny to a seventeen-year-old one.
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You're not going to die, I told her, lifting my head to look at her. I'm not done writing songs about you yet.
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Okay, outside, the clerk said. Conversation outside. Bye! Have a nice night!
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No. Not really. A weapon didn't come to an agreement with the hand that held it.
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It (suicide) became a possibility like Maybe when I grow up, I will be dead. Life was a cake that looked good on the bakery shelf but turned to sawdust and salt when I ate it.
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we're watchers of this world aren't we? not players
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Strange what love taught you about your faults.
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Reality's what other people dream for you.
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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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Clutter is my natural habitat.
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We sat like that for a long while, and when we stood up, all my sad things were in boxes, and Beck was my father.
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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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