Maggie Stiefvater Quotes

It is possible to be in love with you just because of who you are.

You're like a song that I heard when I was a little kid but forgot I

You're like a song that I heard when I was a little kid but forgot I knew until I heard it again.

I wanted a library like this...[] A cave of words that I'd made myself.

Ronan Lynch lived with every sort of secret.

His eyes were frighteningly alive, the curve of his mouth savage and pleased. It suddenly didn't seem at all surprising that he should be able to pull things from his dreams.
In that moment, Blue was a little in love with all of them. Their magic. Their quest. Their awfulness and strangeness. Her raven boys.

Somehow, having a deer preside over the ceremony of a werewolf and a girl seems oddly appropriate.

I was thinking lots of things, but most of them needed to stay thoughts, not words.

It's easy to convince men to love you, Puck. All you have to do is be a mountain they have to climb or a poem they don't understand. Something that makes them feel strong or clever. It's why they love the ocean.

The world needs more love at first sight.

I wish you could be kissed, Jane,' he said. 'Because I would beg just one off you. Under all this.' He flailed an arm toward the stars.

If I were a tree, I would have no reason to love a human.

Right now, it's hard to imagine that it is raining anywhere in the world.

And then I opened my eyes and it was just Grace and me - nothing anywhere but Grace and me - she pressing her lips together as though she were keeping my kiss inside her, and me, holding this moment that was as fragile as a bird in my hands.

Many, many readers have written asking me wistfully about the nature of Sam and Grace's relationship, and I can assure you, that sort is absolutely real. Mutual, respectful, enduring love is completely attainable as long as you swear you won't settle for less.

What are you wishing for?' Grace interrupted. 'To kiss you,' I said to her.

In the darkness, he is invisible, but I can still feel him beside me. Sometimes you don't have to see something to know it is there.

I just looked at her, feeling utterly empty. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say to her. My life is in that bed. Please let me stay.

My chest ached, my body speaking a language my head didn't quite understand.

I waited.

But Grace, the only person in the world I wanted to know me, just ran a wanting finger over the cover of one of the new hardcovers and walked out of the store without ever realising I was there, right within reach.

Grace: I picked up my sweater from the floor and crawled back into bed. Shoving my pillow aside, I balled up the sweater to use instead.

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

It was almost like he was there.

We have to be back in three hours," Ronan said. "I just fed Chainsaw but she'll need it again."

"This," Gansey replied "is precisely why I didn't want to have a baby with you.

Fate," Blue replied, glowering at her mother, "is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast.

Don't panic. Are you sitting? You probably don't need to sit. Well, possibly. At least lean on something.

I always listen to you. Except when I don't.

I was trying to decide if you still had free will as a wolf. If I was a terrible person for planning to drug my girlfriend and drag her back to my house to keep in the basement.

Is this thing safe?"
"Safe as life," Gansey replied.

Life's pain. You just have to get over as much of it as you can.
-Isabel Culpeper

Mum liked to say that some things happen for a reason, that sometimes obstacles were there to stop you from doing something stupid.

right in this moment, I can´t even remember what unhappy feels like.

His lips tasted cool and sharp, peppermint, winter, but his hands, soft on the back of my neck, promised long days and summer and forever.

Sam laughed, a funny, self-deprecating laugh. "You did read a lot. And spent too much time just inside the kitchen window, where I couldn't see you very well."

"And not enough time mostly naked in front of my bedroom window?" I teased.

Sam turned bright red. "That," he said, "is so not the point of this conversation.

his yellow eyes gazed at me possessively - I wondered if he realized that the way he looked at me was far more intimate than copping a feel could ever be.

When he kissed me, his lips soft and careful, it was all the thrill of our first kiss and all the practiced familiarity of the accumulated memory of all our kisses.

I am an equation that only she solves, These X's and Y's by other names called, My way of division is desperatley flawed, while I multiply days without her.

Questa è una storia d'amore. Non immaginavo che l'amore potesse declinarsi in così tanti generi, nè che l'amore potesse indurre le persone a fare le cose più disparate.
Non immaginavo che esistessero modi tanto diversi di dirsi addio.

Scent is the strongest tie to memory.

Because you have only known me for like fourteen seconds and seven of those were us making out and you still know more about me than all of my friends in this stupid place.

Sam reached his hand toward mine, and I automatically put my fingers in his. With a guilty little smile, he pulled my hand toward his nose and took a sniff, and then another one. His smile widened, though it was still shy. It was absolutely adorable, and my breath got caught somewhere in my throat.

She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, a tiny, bloody angel in the snow, and they were going to destroy her.

Somewhere fate laughs in her far-off country, because now I am the human and it is Grace I will lose again and again, immer wieder, always the same, every winter, losing more of her each year, unless I find a cure.

Blue remained secretly hopeful that, somewhere out there in the world, there were other odd people like her.

I lost a horse today.'
'That sounds careless. What happened?'
'She jumped off a cliff.'
'A cliff! Is that normal?

It's rude to stare, but the great thing about staring at a sedated person is that they don't know you're doing it.

I started down but Sam caught my arm and knelt down himself to look.
"For crying out loud," he said. "It's a racoon."
"Poor thing," I said.
"It could be a rabid baby-killer," Cole told me primly.
"Shut up," Sam said pleasantly.

Are there any other missing persons living under your roof? Elvis? Jimmy Hoffa? Amelia Earhart? I'd just like full disclosure now, before we go any further.

As the hours crept by, the afternoon sunlight bleached all the books on the shelves to pale, gilded versions of themselves and warmed the paper and ink inside the covers so that the smell of unread words hung in the air.

You could write a book about things that you can't find on-line.

There was nothing particularly special about her, except that she was good with numbers, and very good at lying, and she made her home in between the pages of books.

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.

They're saying that you and Sean Kendrick were burning up the cliffs." Tommy spins me again and grins at me. "And when I say you and Sean Kendrick, I mean you and Sean Kendrick. And by burning, I mean burning.

whoopdie-friggin-doo, fooled you!

Finn says, “No, ma’am,” as he enters the shop, where he gets poked directly in the chest by the fertility goddess. I move a step backward so he can get away because the last thing I need is for Finn to suddenly decide to become fertile.

Time's not a line. It's a circle or a figure eight or a goddamn Slinky. If you can believe that, I don't know why you can't believe that someone might be able to glimpse something farther along the Slinky.

It had been a long time ago, but also, it was no time at all.
Sometimes, Gansey felt like his life was made up of a dozen hours that he could never forget.

My whole life, I had thought that my story was, again and again: Once upon a time, there was a boy, and he had to risk everything to keep what he loved. But really, the story was: Once upon a time, there was a boy, and his fear ate him alive.

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.

It was a sort of ferocious, quiet beauty, the sort that wouldn't let you admire it. The sort of beauty that always hurt.

This new world was a vicious, sleek world made of street lights and tight jeans, sharp smiles and fast cars. This was a city, edited. A city, pared down to its bare minimums, beautiful and abusive.

It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.

Ich kann spüren, dass er zu ertrinken droht, aber ich weiß nicht, was ich tun soll, um ihn aus dem Wasser zu retten.

Mein Herz pumpte flüssiges Sonnenlicht.

His mind was logical, but his traitorous heart stuttered from beat to beat.

Reality's what other people dream for you.

His home was populated by things and creatures from Niall Lynch's dreams, and his mother was just another one of them

History was always buried deep, even when you know where to look. And it was hard to excavate it without damaging it. Brushes and cotton swabs, not chisels and pickaxes. Slow work. You had to like doing it.

His face went somber for half a second, and then it dissolved into an absolutely wonderful and fearless laugh. The old Ronan Lynch's laugh. No, it was better than that one, because this new one had just a hint of darkness beneath it. This Ronan knew there was crap in the world, but he was laughing anyway.

Did no one tell him that pain lives in this sand, dug in and watered with our blood?

You know what I mean. I'm telling you I was stupid over it. I thought it was about trying so hard to survive that you didn't have the time to be a good parent. Obviously, that's not it. Because you and I, we're both...wealthy in love.

He didn't like to see either of the women in his family disappointed; it ruined perfectly good meals.

Grace, who haunted my thoughts when I couldn’t dream

Adam translated, "Not death, but his brother, sleep.

The inside of the old Camaro smelled like asphalt and desire, gasoline and dreams.

The poor are sad they're poor, Adam had once mused, and turns out the rich are sad they're rich.

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.

But that drummer – the one who could make his drum sound like water dropping into a bucket or like the footfalls of a giant or like rain scattering on a roof – he was the one to watch. He was the one who could make you forget yourself.

People shouldn't have to earn kindness. They should have to earn cruelty.

People being nice for no apparent reason always made me suspicious. People being nice to me with no apparent reason made me even more suspicious.

Adam wasn't certain what came first with Blue-her treating the boys as friends, or them all becoming friends. It seemed to Adam that this circular way to build relationships required a healthy amount of self-confidence to undertake. And it was a strange dirty of magic that it felt like she'd always been hunting for Glendower with them.

You and I both know that love is for children,'' he said. ''We're adults. Compatibility is for adults.''

''Compatibility is for my Bluetooth and my car,'' Teresa replied. ''Only they get along just fine, and my car never makes my bluetooth feel like shit.

When Gansey was polite, it made him powerful. When Adam was polite, he was giving power away.

They couldn't hurt Gansey. Nothing could hurt him; people who said money couldn't buy everything hadn't seen anyone as rich as the Aglionby boys. They were untouchable, immune to life's troubles. Only death couldn't be swiped away by a credit card.

Do you eat all of the men in the family? Where do they go? Does this house have a basement?

[...] Aglionby boys, who often thought rudeness was a louder sort of flirting.

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