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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.
Maggie Stiefvater
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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Eye
Reached
Began
Drive
Fingers
Hair
Grace
Crazy
Stroking
Eyes
Closed
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The most dangerous and wonderful creature alive is the human.
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Some people see what they want to see.
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The tourists always seem to want something. On Thisby, it's less about wanting, and more about being. I wonder after I say it if he'll think I sound like have no drive or ambition.
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I am standing here in the shed, and I'm waiting to see if my seeds are going to poke out ofthe dirt. I don't know if it's too early to look for signs of life or if, this time, winter has claimed my family for good.
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I didn't know, I start truthfully, that it was the hard way when I started on it.
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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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Oh my God. What in—” I was going to be killed by two generations of beautiful women. While naked. “Mom,” Isabel snapped, interrupting. “Do you mind not staring? It’s totally perv.
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When you traffic in monsters, that's the risk you run, that you'll find one too monstrous to stomach.
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You're assuming they would listen to me, I said. Cole lifted his hands off the roof of the Volkswagen cloudy fingerprints evaporated seconds ater he did. We all listen to you, Sam. He jumped to the pavement. You just don't always talk to us.
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There are moments that you'll remember for the rest of your life and there are moments that you think you'll remember for the rest of your life, and it's not often they turn out to be the same moment.
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I considered calling Grace to ask her what I should say to a reticent suicidal werewolf, but I'd left my phone somewhere. Car, maybe.
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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.
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There is a little narrowing to his eyes at the end of it that makes me understand that this is a test. Whether or not I'm brave enough to go into the stall with Corr after yesterday morning, after I've had time to think about what happened. The thought of it makes my pulse trip. The question is not if I trust Corr. The question is if I trust Sean.
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There was something unbearably sexy about cars at night, Ronan thought. The way the fenders twisted the light and reflected the road, the way every driver became anonymous. The sight of them knocked his heartbeat askew.
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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 entire room was so yellow that it looked like the sun had thrown up on the walls and wiped its mouth afterward on the dresser and curtains. ---Cole
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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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My parents had always been so careful with me, until the day they decided I needed to die.
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It was the perfect moment to tell her. This is my last year. But I couldn’t say it. Not yet. I wanted another minute, another hour, another night of pretending this wasn’t the end.
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What were you thinking about? When I came in? Being Sam, I said. What a nice thing to be, Grace said. And then she smiled, bigger and bigger, until I felt my expression mirror hers, our noses touching.
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