Quote

I think every now and then about Sean’s thumb pressed against my wrist and daydream about him touching me again. But mostly I think about the way he looks at me – with respect – and I think that’s probably worth more than anything.

Maggie Stiefvater

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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Think
Mostly
Wrist
Thinking
Worth
Thumb
Respect
Sean
Probably
Daydreaming
Anything
Wrists
Looks
Pressed
Every
Thumbs
Way
Touching
Daydream

More quotes by Maggie Stiefvater

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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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Aren't you afraid?' 'Of what?' 'Of losing yourself.' 'That's what I'm hoping for.
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I think that whenever a book is not a challenge, I'm telling the wrong story.
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Sam did smile then, and said softly, Hey Angel.
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Are you alone? So that's what this call was about. For some reason, the question made my throat tighten. No, I said, Elvis is here. Would you like to talk to him?
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whoopdie-friggin-doo, fooled you!
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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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How do you know I wouldn't have just been happy with the truth? I don’t care if my father was a deadbeat named Butternut. It doesn't change anything right now.” “His name wasn't really Butternut, was it?” Gansey asked Adam in a low voice.
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The trees called to me, urging me to abandon what I knew and vanish into the oncoming night. It was a desire that had been tugging me with disconcerting frequency these days.
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It occurred to me then that I was the opposite of my father. Because I was very, very good at destroying things.
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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 fell asleep to the scent of my wolf. Pine needles, cold rain, earthy perfume, coarse bristles on my face.
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You're beautiful and sad, I said finally, not looking at him when I did. Just like your eyes. You're like a song that I heard when I was a little kid but forgot I knew until I heard it again. For a long moment there was only the whirring sound of the tires on the road, and then Sam said softly, Thank you.
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I was suddenly struck by how dissimilar we were. It occurred to me that if Grace and I were objects, she would be an elaborate digital clock, synced up with the World Clock in London with technical perfection, and I’d be a snow globe – shaken memories in a glass ball.
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When does it happen? It already has, Calla replied. Her eyes opened and fixed on Blue. And it hasn't yet. Time' circular, chicken. We use the same parts of it over and over. Some of us more than others.
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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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Would we be so enamored with dystopian fiction if we lived in a culture where violent death was a major concern? It wouldn't be escapism.
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Sometimes Ronan thought Adam was so used to the right way being painful that he doubted any path that didn’t come with agony.
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It occurred to me that there was a story behind the scar -- maybe not as dramatic as the story of my wrists, but a story nonetheless -- and the fact that everyone had a story behind some mark on their inside or outside suddenly exhausted me, the gravity of all those untold pasts.
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The fact was, by the time she got to high school, being weird and proud of it was an asset. Suddenly cool, Blue could've happily had any number of friends. And she had tried. But the problem with being weird was that everyone else was 'normal'.
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