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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!
Maggie Stiefvater
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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Would
Think
Thinking
Like
Obsession
World
Yeah
Call
Talk
Something
More quotes by Maggie Stiefvater
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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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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I didn't know, I start truthfully, that it was the hard way when I started on it.
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Now I am the unknown, the unknowable.
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Sean, as always, gets by on one word while everyone else needs five or six.
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Death smells like birthday cake.
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Hello, lovely. You're as pretty as pretty today.
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It's for personal reasons, I say stiffly, which is what my mother had always told me to say about things that had to do with fighting with your brothers, getting any sort of illness that had intestinal ramifications, starting your period, and money.
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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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She reached down and traced my eyebrows. 'You do have really beautiful eyes.' 'We get to keep them,' I said. Grace started at my voice. 'What?' 'It's the one thing we keep. Our eyes stay the same.' I unclenched my fists. 'I was born with these eyes. I was born for this life.
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Sleep deprivation made his life an imaginary thing, his days a ribbon floating aimlessly in water. - Whelk
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And then I opened my eyes and it was just Grace and me - nothing anywhere but Grace and me - she pressing her lips together as though she were keeping my kiss inside her, and me, holding this moment that was as fragile as a bird in my hands.
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I tried to picture her in a class, any class, anywhere on campus, and failed miserably. I pictured her frolicking in a forest glade around some guy she'd just sacrificed to a heathen god. That image worked way better.
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I don't know if I'd want to be comforted, if I'm being honest. If I'm being forced to eat soot, I want to know that somewhere else in the world, someone else has to eat soot as well. I want to know that soot tastes terrible. I don't want to be told that soot's good for the digestion. And of course, by soot, I mean beans.
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We are shoulder to shoulder due to the size of the cab, and if Gratton is made of flour and potatoes, Sean is made of stone and driftwood and possibly those prickly anemones that sometimes wash up on shore.
Maggie Stiefvater
When he kissed me, his lips soft and careful, it was all the thrill of our first kiss and all the practiced familiarity of the accumulated memory of all our kisses.
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He was brother to a liar and brother to an angel, son of a dream and son of a dreamer.
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When Gansey was polite, it made him powerful. When Adam was polite, he was giving power away.
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Thery're both iron, isn't that funny? Funny haha or funny strange? James handed them back to me Funny 'occult' Ah. Funny strange James looked at me sternly, Don't start that. I'm supposed to be the humorous one
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My chest ached, my body speaking a language my head didn't quite understand. I waited. But Grace, the only person in the world I wanted to know me, just ran a wanting finger over the cover of one of the new hardcovers and walked out of the store without ever realising I was there, right within reach.
Maggie Stiefvater
