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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: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Hands
Palms
Everything
Empty
Nothing
Toward
Hand
Open
Risked
Lying
Ceiling
Show
Palm
Shows
Ceilings
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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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I was against felonies when a misdemeanor would do.
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It occurred to me then that I was the opposite of my father. Because I was very, very good at destroying things.
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Again and Again, however, we know the language of love, and the little churchyard with its lamenting names and the staggeringly secret abyss in which others find their end: again and again the two of us go out under the ancient trees, make our bed again and again between the flowers, face to face with the skies
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With his back to us, Sean tugs the halter from the mare's head. She kicks out, but he steps out of the way as if it were nothing at all. With a shake of her mane, she leaps mightily into the water. For a moment she struggles over the waves, and then she is swimming. Just a wild black horse in a deep blue sea full of the ashes of other dead boys.
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I wasn’t sure which of us was being more selfish—her, for wanting something that no one could promise, or me, for not promising her something that was too painfully impossible to want.
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It was exactly what I wanted-beautiful distraction.
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I always listen to you. Except when I don't.
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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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There was something awful about terror trapped behind silence. About latent emotions that couldn't be acted out. Cole's thoughts on page 248 of Linger.
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I can't really believe that it's over. I'll speak for her. Every face turns to where Sean Kendrick stands a little apart from the crowd, his arms crossed. This island runs on courage, not blood, he says. His face is turned towards me, but his eyes are on Eaton and his groups. In the hush after he speaks, I can hear my heart thudding in my
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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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