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There was something unbearably sexy about cars at night, Ronan thought. The way the fenders twisted the light and reflected the road, the way every driver became anonymous. The sight of them knocked his heartbeat askew.

Maggie Stiefvater

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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Became
Driver
Night
Twisted
Light
Drivers
Askew
Thought
Cars
Unbearably
Every
Sexy
Anonymous
Something
Road
Knocked
Way
Car
Heartbeat
Sight
Reflected

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Sean reaches out between us and takes my wrist. He press his thumb on my pulse. My heartbeat trips and surges against his skin. I'm pinned by his touch, a sort of fearful magic. We stand and stand, and I wait for my pulse against his finger to slow, but it doesn't Finally, he releases my wrist and says, I'll see you on the cliffs tomorrow.
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The entire room was so yellow that it looked like the sun had thrown up on the walls and wiped its mouth afterward on the dresser and curtains. ---Cole
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They bit you. You should've changed, too, you know. Sometimes I wish I had, I told him. He closed his eyes, miles away on the other side of the bed. Sometimes I do, too.
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I'll cook the water.
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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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Did you just tell that man you went potty on yourself? You. Shut. Up,I hissed back furiously and chucked the scrubs at his head. Hurry up before they find out I didn't wet myself. You seriously owe me.
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In that moment, Blue was a little in love with all of them. Their magic. Their quest. Their awfulness and strangeness. Her raven boys.
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Clutter is my natural habitat.
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It was the way she felt when she looked at the stars.
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I'm quite happy for that smile, because Dad told me once you should be grateful for the gifts that are the rarest.
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The journal and Gansey were clearly long acquainted, and he wanted her to know. This is me. The real me.
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Is that all? she whispered. Gansey closed his eyes. That's all there is.
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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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She attempted to turn again I held on. I wasn't holding tight enough to keep her, but she wasn't pulling hard enough to get away.
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Maura whirled towards Blue. Blue, if you ever see that man again, you just walk the other way. No, Calla corrected. Kick him in the nuts. Then run the other way.
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The way Gansey saw it was this: if you had a special knack for finding things, it meant you owed the world to look.
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He smiled tolerantly at her. Rubbing his smooth chin its recently assassinated chin hairs, he studied her. She barely came up to Ronan's shoulder, but she was every bit as big as he, every bit as present.
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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.
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we're watchers of this world aren't we? not players
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You look like a puppy. Like I'm jingling my keys and you're jumping by the door waiting for your walk Woof.
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