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I won't let this be my good-bye. I've folded one thousand paper crane memories of me and Grace, and I've made my wish. I will find a cure. And then I will find Grace.
Maggie Stiefvater
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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Grace
Cranes
Wish
Folded
Find
Bye
Made
Cure
Good
Cures
Paper
Thousand
Memories
Crane
More quotes by Maggie Stiefvater
Write the book you've always wanted to read, but can't find on the shelf.
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His lips tasted cool and sharp, peppermint, winter, but his hands, soft on the back of my neck, promised long days and summer and forever.
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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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In his head, his mother said, 'People shout when they don’t have the vocabulary to whisper'.
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I'm quite happy for that smile, because Dad told me once you should be grateful for the gifts that are the rarest.
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Well,” said Ronan, “I hope he likes it. I’ve pulled a muscle.” Gansey scoffed, “Doing what? You were standing watch.” “Opening my hood.
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But love isn't quantifiable on paper.
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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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It was a sort of ferocious, quiet beauty, the sort that wouldn't let you admire it. The sort of beauty that always hurt.
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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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And then I opened my eyes and it was just Grace and me - nothing anywhere but Grace and me - she pressing her lips together as though she were keeping my kiss inside her, and me, holding this moment that was as fragile as a bird in my hands.
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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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Sorry for hurting you, she said right in my ear, but it wasn't really an apology, because you don't bite someone's earlobe to tell them you're sorry.
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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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Don't give me that look. I'm not trying to find out who you are. I don't care who you are. I just want to know why it is you are the way you are.
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Now I am the unknown, the unknowable.
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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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The fact was, by the time she got to high school, being weird and proud of it was an asset. Suddenly cool, Blue could've happily had any number of friends. And she had tried. But the problem with being weird was that everyone else was 'normal'.
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Silence was never a wrong answer.
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I feel like I have so many stories basting in my mind, and they come busting out when they're ready.
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