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I had risked everything, and I had nothing to show for it but my open hand, lying empty and palm up toward the ceiling.
Maggie Stiefvater
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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Nothing
Toward
Hand
Open
Risked
Lying
Ceiling
Show
Palm
Shows
Ceilings
Hands
Palms
Everything
Empty
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The only thing was, she didn't really want to see the future. What she wanted was to see something no one else could see or would see, and maybe that was asking for more magic that was in the world.
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- Tears don't become us. - What becomes us? - Action.
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It was the way she felt when she looked at the stars.
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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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You’re my change of skin / my summer-winter-fall / I spring to follow you / this loss is beautiful.
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she's the only thing that's made my life worth living and if that's all I get, a few months with her- a few days, it's more than I've ever hoped for (Luke)
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I was suddenly struck by how dissimilar we were. It occurred to me that if Grace and I were objects, she would be an elaborate digital clock, synced up with the World Clock in London with technical perfection, and I’d be a snow globe – shaken memories in a glass ball.
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The journal and Gansey were clearly long acquainted, and he wanted her to know. This is me. The real me.
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Hello, lovely. You're as pretty as pretty today.
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I sense that his drowning but I don't have any idea of how to start to put my hand into the water and save him.
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..and me holding this moment that was as fragile as a bird in my hands
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It's like how on certain days some people wear sweaters when other people can wear t-shirts and still feel comfortable - different reactions to the same temperature.
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Happiness isn't something this island yields easily the ground is too rocky and the sun too sparse for it to flourish.
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she waited to change , and i waited to change , and we both wanted what we couldn't have
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Oh, I'll buy fourteen dresses and build a road and name it after myself and try one of everything at Palsson's. Though I don't quite look up, I can still feel his gaze on me. It's a heavy thing, this look of his. He says, What's the real answer?
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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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Are you alone? So that's what this call was about. For some reason, the question made my throat tighten. No, I said, Elvis is here. Would you like to talk to him?
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I think every now and then about Sean’s thumb pressed against my wrist and daydream about him touching me again. But mostly I think about the way he looks at me – with respect – and I think that’s probably worth more than anything.
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