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I fell asleep to the scent of my wolf. Pine needles, cold rain, earthy perfume, coarse bristles on my face.

Maggie Stiefvater

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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 43
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Rain
Pine
Cold
Coarse
Face
Needles
Faces
Wolf
Perfume
Scent
Asleep
Bristles
Fell
Earthy

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Of course he would count the time that we'd been two entirely different species.
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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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I have to walk dogs. Oh, Gansey replied, sounding deflated. Well, okay. But it'll only take an hour. Oh, he repeated, about fourteen shades brighter. Shall I pick you up, then?
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Ronan Lynch lived with every sort of secret.
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The fact was, I didn't know if I was built for happy endings.
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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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Once upon a time I would’ve leaped at the rare opportunity of curling up with Mom on the couch. But now it sort of felt like too little too late. I had someone else waiting for me.
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I am alone in the world, and yet not alone enough to make each hour holy. I am lowly in this world, and yet not lowly enough for me to be just a thing to you, dark and shrewd. I want my will and I want to go with my will as it moves towards action.
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My parents had always been so careful with me, until the day they decided I needed to die.
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..and me holding this moment that was as fragile as a bird in my hands
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Watch for the devil. When there’s a god, there’s always a legion of devils.
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There was no sun there was no light. I was dying. I couldn't remember what the sky looked like. But I didn't die. I was lost to a sea of cold, and then I was reborn into a world of warmth.
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Well,” said Ronan, “I hope he likes it. I’ve pulled a muscle.” Gansey scoffed, “Doing what? You were standing watch.” “Opening my hood.
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The walls of the arch are covered with blood-red jellies that wink and glisten at me by the light of the moon. My father told me they were completely harmless. I don't believe him. Nothing is completely harmless.
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It was a sort of ferocious, quiet beauty, the sort that wouldn't let you admire it. The sort of beauty that always hurt.
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