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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.
Maggie Stiefvater
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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Shelf
Possibility
Shelves
Grow
Cake
Dead
Salt
Grows
Suicide
Maybe
Turned
Bakery
Good
Became
Bakeries
Life
Sawdust
Like
Looked
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Avoiding a bathtub because your parents tried to kill you in one isn't the same as avoiding your entire life by becoming a wolf.
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Overhead, the stars were wheeling and infinite, a complicated mobile made by giants.
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One happy day for every falling leaf you catch. Sam's voice was low.
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Sam? Rachel asked. Do you know you have the saddest sad face ever?
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It was exactly what I wanted-beautiful distraction.
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Aren't you afraid?' 'Of what?' 'Of losing yourself.' 'That's what I'm hoping for.
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Or even tell me it's because you could not live without The Boy's stunning Boyfruits for another night... Sam's face was twisted into a weird shape at the mention of his Boyfruits.
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When did you get so smart? He tapped his forehead. Brain transplant. They put in a whale's. I'm passing all my classes with my eyes closed now, but I just can't get over this craving for krill. He shrugged. And I feel sorry for the whale that got my brain. Probably swimming around Florida now trying to catch glimpses of girls in bikinis.
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Death smells like birthday cake.
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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 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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To Grace, these were the things that mattered: my hands on her cheeks, my lips on her mouth. The fleeting touches that meant I loved her.
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I think that whenever a book is not a challenge, I'm telling the wrong story.
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I slithered out of the sinkhole on my stomach. It was not the sexiest move I'd ever performed, but I was impressed nonetheless.
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Because you know that's not how you want it to end. You know I'd love to have you with me, and it will be that way, one day. But this isn't the way it ought to happen.
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- Tears don't become us. - What becomes us? - Action.
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Dying's a boring side effect.
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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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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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Watch for the devil. When there’s a god, there’s always a legion of devils.
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