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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.
Maggie Stiefvater
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Maggie Stiefvater
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: November 18
Novelist
Writer
Harrisonburg
Virginia
Abandon
Trees
Tree
Oncoming
Knew
Disconcerting
Days
Tugging
Called
Urging
Desire
Vanish
Night
Frequency
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I can't tell the difference, I said. Between not fighting and giving up.
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My good mood felt like an endangered species.
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Its beyond him now. its time for you to do you own thing. My thing? my thing only worked if Grace was here to make it work. without Grace, i have an emotionally unbalanced wolf and a Volkswagen.
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Are you high? Why are you never wearing a shirt? I sleep naked, Cole said. He put both milk and sugar in my coffee. As the day goes on, I put on more and more clothing. You should've come over an hour ago.
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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 said uselessly, Sam, don't go. Sam cupped my face in his hands and looked me in the eyes. His eyes were yellow, sad, wolf, mine. These stay the same. Remember that when you look at me. Remember it's me. Please.
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One thousand ways to say good-bye One thousands ways to cry One thousand ways to hang your hat before you go outside I say good-bye good-bye good-bye I shout it out so loud Cause the next time that I find my voice I might not remember how.
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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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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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We sat like that for a long while, and when we stood up, all my sad things were in boxes, and Beck was my father.
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Where do you live? Adam's mouth was very set. A place made for leaving That's not really an answer. It's not really a place.
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Sam looked at me, yellow eyes catching and holding me. I miss being me. I miss you. All the time.
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right in this moment, I canĀ“t even remember what unhappy feels like.
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...she made her home in between the pages of books.
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I don't cry at books or movies. Ever. So imagine my shock and awe when I read 'The Time Traveler's Wife' for the second time, and I knew the ending, and I started to cry.
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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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..and me holding this moment that was as fragile as a bird in my hands
Maggie Stiefvater
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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As you learn who you are, you can better surround yourself with friends who make you a better person, and that sometimes only happens when you disassemble old relationships.
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What are you wishing for?' Grace interrupted. 'To kiss you,' I said to her.
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