Quote

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: 42
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Crazy
Stroking
Eyes
Closed
Eye
Reached
Began
Drive
Fingers
Hair
Grace

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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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Somewhere fate laughs in her far-off country, because now I am the human and it is Grace I will lose again and again, immer wieder, always the same, every winter, losing more of her each year, unless I find a cure.
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I've always loved reading fantasy. I used to pick out all the books in the library that had the little unicorn sticker on the side to show that they were fantasy.
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Calla readjusted, wrapping the silk around her other thigh instead. Which one's he again? The pretty one? Blue and Gansey exchanged a look. Blue's look said, I'm so, so sorry. Gansey's said, Am I the pretty one?
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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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It's all you think about, all you talk about, and all you want us to talk about. What in the world would we call something like that? Oh, yeah! An obsession!
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She screamed, the high scream that was neither human nor animal but something terrible in between, the sort of sound that you never forget no matter how many beautiful things you hear afterward.
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He's a pit bull, Adam said. I know some really nice pit bulls. He's the kind of pit that makes the evening news. Gansey's trying to restrain him. How noble.
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- Tears don't become us. - What becomes us? - Action.
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Hello, Grace's parents. I'm Grace's boyfriend. Please notice the chaste distance between us. I am very responsible and have never had my tongue in your daughter's mouth.
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It could kill you, Maura said. Then there was the awkward moment that arrives when two thirds of the people in the room know that the other third is supposed to die in fewer than nine months, and the person who is meant to die is not one of the ones in the know.
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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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Adam had once told Gansey, Rags to riches isn't a story anyone wants to hear until after it's done.
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Peppermint swirled into my nostrils, sharp as glass, then raspberry almost to sweet, like too-ripe fruit. Apple, crisp and pure. Nuts, buttery, warm, earthy
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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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Right, sure. Because there's no girls in politics! I have no interest. Voting? What? I forgot my apron. I think I ought to be in the kitchen right now, actually. My rolling pin-
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You're the nicest boy ever,, I told him, feeling undeserving and terrible. You didn't have to get me anything. I like thinking about you thinking about me when I'm not around.
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Some people see what they want to see.
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More than anything, the journal wanted. It wanted more than it could hold, more than words could describe, more than diagrams could illustrate. Longing burst from the pages, in every frantic line and every hectic sketch and every dark-printed definition. There was something pained and melancholy about it.
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It was exactly what I wanted-beautiful distraction.
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