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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.

Maggie Stiefvater

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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Looks
Shed
Going
Seeds
Good
Winter
Time
Early
Ofthe
Life
Standing
Poke
Waiting
Claimed
Family
Signs
Look
Dirt

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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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Face flushed, I shook my head and stared at my white-knuckled grip on the bed. Of all my pet peeves, condescending adults were probably at the top of the list.
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Aren't you afraid?' 'Of what?' 'Of losing yourself.' 'That's what I'm hoping for.
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As you learn who you are, you can better surround yourself with friends who make you a better person, and that sometimes only happens when you disassemble old relationships.
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He strode over to the ruined church. This, Blue had discovered, was how Gansey got places - striding. Walking was for ordinary people.
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Sailing to an island unknown Failing to find your way home you walk under a sea leagues beneath us
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There's no such thing as a good book or a bad book. There's a book that matters to a reader.
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I guess I make things that need energy stronger. I'm like a walking battery.
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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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Grace reached over and began stroking her fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes and let her drive me crazy.
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But by blood, no wolf am I
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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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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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He left Chainsaw behind, much to her irritation. Ronan didn't want her to learn any bad language.
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This is Rilke. I wish I had written it for you.
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I am an introvert. I should get that out there now.
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I'm trying to make you think I'm a decent person. Telling you I saw you naked while I was another species does not help my case
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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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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 grew up with boys of all kinds - I have two brothers, and I was in a bagpipe band for several years.
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