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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: 42
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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Is that all? she whispered. Gansey closed his eyes. That's all there is.
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I could live inside a G major chord, with Grace, if she was willing.
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Imagine my delight and awe when I discovered such a thing was a real genre - contemporary fantasy or urban fantasy. It was like having my birthday twice in one week and cookie dough for breakfast.
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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 remembered the pain as clearly as if I were shifting — the pain of loss. I felt the agony of the single moment that I lost myself. Lost what made me Sam. The part of me that could remember Grace's name.
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I never taught him to break him thumb. That's Gansey for you. Only learns enough to be superficially competent. Loser, Ronan agreed, and he was himself again.
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Are you sure you want to go out with someone with that kind of history? ...He could have a psychotic break. I read that people get those when they're twenty-eight.
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There was something striking about her posture something about the tilt to her head. She was like a beautiful and lonely piece of art, lovely but unreachable.
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His heart hurt with the wanting of it, the hurt no less painful for being difficult to explain.
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I considered calling Grace to ask her what I should say to a reticent suicidal werewolf, but I'd left my phone somewhere. Car, maybe.
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that's because it's from the night, and the night keeps secrets
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I feel like I have so many stories basting in my mind, and they come busting out when they're ready.
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If Adam was stupid about his pride, Gansey was stupid about Adam.
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I am not a huge fan of the one-sided pining romances where the guy is a perfect love-object because we don't see inside his head.
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I tired the back door -- unlocked. Truley the Man Upstairs was smiling down on me.
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She wore a dress Ronan thought looked like a lampshade. Whatever sort of lamp it belonged on, Gansey clearly wished he had one. Ronan wasn't a fan of lamps.
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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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