Maggie Stiefvater Quotes

There was nothing terrible about them. They had no particular power over me. No more than anyone else. It had never been them. It had always been me. This realization was like a word I had to be taught every time I heard it. The definition never seemed to sink in. They were just ordinary people. [ ... ] It used to matter so much. It used to seem like such a struggle to not turn into my father. But now, sitting here, it seemed impossible that that could've ever happened. I had wasted so much time on this. I kept finding out that the monster I'd been fighting was only me.

Divorce-by-numbers.

Can you see your own death?" "Everyone sees it," Persephone said mildly. "Most people make themselves stop looking, though." "I don't see my own death," Adam said. But even as he said it, he felt the corner of knowledge bite into him. It was now, it was coming, it had already happened. Somewhere, someWHEN, he was dying.

It makes sense that there's a family history for your condition," he said. "Do you eat all of the men in the family? Where do they go? Does this house have a basement?" Blue stood up. "It's like boot camp. They can't hack it. Poor things." "Poor me," he said.

His face was just strange enough that she wanted to keep looking at it.

I don't think I ever believed in love, not really. Just though it was something James Bond made up, a long time ago, to get laid.

There was quiet, and then Ronan said, "I better go feed the bird."
But he looked down at the gearshift instead, eyes unfocused. He said, "I keep thinking about what would've happened if Whelk had shot Gansey today."
Adam hadn't let himself dwell on that possibility. Every time his thoughts came close to touching on the near miss, it opened up something dark and sharp edged inside him. It was hard to remember what life at Aglionby had been like before Gansey. The distant memories seemed difficult, lonely, more populated with late nights where Adam sat on the steps of the doublewide, blinking tears tears out of his eyes and wondering why he bothered. He'd been younger then, only a little more than a year ago. "But he didn't.

Ronan was a cloud, and he was raining.

And the sky was different. It had turned gray. Not the dull gray of high fall cloud cover, but rather a turbulent, molten gray that was really blue and purple and flint, all of it shifting and moving and swirling like the undulations of a snake. It had no eyes and no heartbeat and no body, but nonetheless one got the sense that the sky itself was sentient, even if it did not notice them below it.

None of us are really alone as long as we're lonely.

Aglionby Academy was the number one reason Blue had developed her two rules: One, stay away from boys because they were trouble. And two, stay away from Aglionby boys, because they were bastards.

Gansey said abruptly. "In we go. Ronan, don't forget to set the directional markers as we go. We're counting on you. Don't just stare at me. Nod like you understand. Good. You know what? Give them to Jane."
"What?" Ronan sounded betrayed.
Blue accepted the markers - round, plastic discs with arrows drawn on them. She hadn't realized how nervous she was until she had them in her hands; it felt good to have something concrete to do.
"I want you to whistle or hum or sing, Ronan, and keep track of time," Gansey said.
"You have got to be shitting me," Ronan replied. "Me."
Gansey peered down the tunnel. "I know you know a lot of the songs all the way through, and can do them the same sped and length every time. Because you had to memorize all of those tunes for the Irish music competitions."
Blue and Adam exchanged a delighted look. The only thing more pleasing than seeing Ronan singled out was seeing him singled out and forced to repeatedly sing an Irish jig.
"Piss up a rope," Ronan said.
Gansey, unoffended, waited.
Ronan shook his head, but then, with a wicked smile, he began to sing, "Squash one, squash two, s-"
"Not that one," both Adam and Gansey said.
"I'm not listening to that for three hours," Adam said.
Gansey pointed at Ronan until he began to breathily whistle a jaunty reel.
And they went in deeper.

Ronan looked at Blue, eyes narrowed. She didn't look away. This was a game she sometimes played with Ronan Lynch: Who would look away first? It was always a draw.

I remembered standing in the middle of the street in front of The Crooked Bookshelf, filled with the certainty of a future. I had heard the wolves howling behind the house and remembered how glad I had been to be human.

Gansey touched his lower lip very gently. He lowered his hand, and he said, "Wake up." He said it like he had said stop earlier. He said it in a voice Adam had heard countless times, a voice he could never not listen to.

The truth is, until you know any different, the island is enough.
Actually, I know different. And it's still enough.

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

Someone's been hanging out with Richard Campbell Gansey the third too much 'My sense of self-worth isn't tied to my occupation

It was so impossible to live life backward.

Boudicca is the original goth. Ronan Lynch wishes he was that badass.

I'm fascinated about how past events shape our perception of current events and how they make us the people we are.

Love in the high desert is a strange thing. There is something about the climate - the remoteness, the severity of the seasons, the dryness of the air, the extreme beauty - that makes people feel more deeply. Perhaps without trees or cities to dampen the enormity of the feelings, they spread out hugely. Perhaps the hard-packed dust of the San Luis Valley amplifies them, like a shout into a canyon.

Blue was a natural result of a home like this: confident, strange, credulous, curious.

With his back to us, Sean tugs the halter from the mare's head. She kicks out, but he steps out of the way as if it were nothing at all. With a shake of her mane, she leaps mightily into the water. For a moment she struggles over the waves, and then she is swimming. Just a wild black horse in a deep blue sea full of the ashes of other dead boys.

Avoidance is a wonderful therapy

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.

Why can't I do it?" [Isabel] asked ... .
"Do what?"
"Just forget about everything. Just go somewhere and get smashed and pretend like there are no problems or consequences. I know why. Because there are still problems and consequences. And going and
and
partying doesn't make them go away. I feel like I'm the only sane person in the world. I don't get why this whole world runs on stupidity.

Ronan returned, leaning in the passenger window. Blue turned the phone to him. "Maybe we could walk to this place."
"The Deering General Store?" Ronan said, voice scathing. "Look at it. That's not a place to get a battery. That's a place to lose your wallet. Or your virginity."
"Do you have a better idea?" she demanded. "Maybe we can hurl some stuff into the underbrush! Or hit something! That solves everything! Maybe we can be really manly and break things!

It was becoming a nightmare. Ronan could hear the night horrors coming, in love with his blood and his sadness.

It's the stuff between stars, the space between roots, the thing that makes electricity get up in the morning.

It fucking hates us

If we go that way, it seems less like we'll be shot for trespassing. We can't be low profile because of your shirt."
"Aquamarine is a wonderful color, and I won't be made to feel bad for wearing it," Gansey said. But his voice was a bit thin, and he glanced back at the church again. Just then he looked younger than she'd ever seen him, his eyes narrowed, hair messed up, features unstudied. Young and, strangely enough, afraid.
Blue thought: I can't tell him. I can never tell him. I have to just try to stop it from happening.
Then Gansey, suddenly charming again, flipped a hand in the direct of her purple tunic dress. "Lead the way, Eggplant."
She found a stick to poke at the ground for snakes before they set off through the grass. The wind smelled like rain, and the ground rumbled with thunder, but the weather held. The machine in Gansey's hands blinked red constantly, only flickering to orange when they stepped too far away from the invisible line.
"Thanks for coming, Jane," Gansey said.
Blue shot him a dirty look. "You're welcome, Dick."
He looked pained. "Please don't.

If someone is robbing us, come back after buisness hours! Calla's voice came from upstairs.

And suddenly I was just eaten by nostalgia, for a past that wasn't mine.

Kissing in front of the loveless is an act of cruelty.

We had this big grill at his house, and I remember, one night he said, 'Sam, tonight you're feeding us,' He showed me how to push on the middle of the steaks to see how done they were, and how to sear them fast on each side to keep the juices in."
"And they were awesome, weren't they?"
"I burned the hell out of them," I said, matter-of-fact. "I'd compare them to charcoal, but charcoal is still sort of edible.

Ronan, I think you need to tell them, too.
Ronan's expression, if anything, was betrayed. This was wearying; Gansey could see precisely the argument that it was heaving towards. Adam would shoot something cool and truthful over the bow, Ronan would fire back a profanity cannon, Adam would drip gasoline in the path of the projectile, and then everything would be on fire for hours.

How was your first day of school, Jane?" he asked, voice different than before.
"Oh, you know, public school," she said, not meeting his eyes. "We just watched cartoons all day.

Spiraling through insanity together made it seem more sane.

Girlfriend!" Blue repeated, and he felt a disconnected thrill to hear her say the word. "How about friend-friend?"
"I thought we were friend-friends."
"Are we? Friends talk. You go walking to the Pentagon and I find out from Gansey! Your dad's a jerk and I find out from Gansey! Noah knows everything. Ronan knows everything."
"They don't know everything. They know what they were there for. Gansey knows because he was there."
"Yeah, and why wasn't I?"
"Why would you be?"
"Because you'd invited me," Blue said.
The world tilted. He blinked; it straightened. "But there wasn't any reason for you to be there."
"Right, sure. Because there's no girls in politics! I have no interest. Voting? What? I forgot my apron. I think I ought to be in the kitchen right now, actually. My rolling pin -"
"I didn't know that you -"
"That's my point! Did it even occur to you?"
It had not.
"You wouldn't have gone someplace without Gansey, though," Blue snapped. "You two make a grand couple! Kiss him!"
Adam cocked his head witheringly.
"Well, I don't want to be just someone to kiss. I want to be a real friend, too. Not just someone who's fun to have around because - because I have breasts!

Pete fell deeply in love with it.
This strange cold desert does not care if you live or die in it, but he fell for it anyway. He had not known before then that a place could feel so raw and so close to the surface. His weak heart felt the danger but could not resist.
He fell in love so fiercely that the desert itself noticed.

It occurs to me that Mutt Malvern doesn't know me well enough to say something to properly hurt me.

I deal with the crap as it happens, and then it's gone. When you don't think about it, it lives forever.

Soon college would be out, I would join the ranks of the martriculated, and the real world would steal me away for one of their own.

It was harder, I thought, to watch someone in pain than to be in it yourself.

Ronan rummaged in his jacket pocket and removed a package of peanut butter crackers. He unwrapped one as the raven became suddenly attentive.
"Cracker," he said to her.
"Krek," she replied.
"Cracker," he repeated.
"Krek,"
"Cracker,"
"Kreker,"
He gave her one. "The other's if you get Opal.

There's going to be life after he dies. You have to think about what you're going to do after.

I love inventing interesting people and then pushing them to their absolute limits - and usually those absolute limits involve homicidal faeries, werewolves, or some other paranormal menace.

Ronan kept going, his voice louder. No. Do you hear me, Cabeswater? You promised to keep me safe. Who are we to you? Nothing? If you let him die, that is not keeping me safe. Do you understand? If they die, I die, too.

Wake up, you bastard," - he said. "You fucker. I can't believe that you would ... "
And he began to cry.

You just can't wait to get out of your head, can you?"
"if you were in here you might want that too.

Ronan sounded furious, which told Declan little about what he was really feeling. Every emotion that wasn't happiness in Ronan usually presented itself as anger.

I thought, possibly, that what I really needed was to go where nobody knew me and start over again, with none of my previous decisions, conversations, or expectations coming with me.

Sam pushed open the door without waiting for my answer. A wonderful wave of new-book smell came rushing out, reminding me immediately of Christmas. My parents always got me books for Christmas. With a melodic ding, the shop door swung shut behind us, and Sam released my hand. Where to? I'll buy you a book. I know you want one.

It was against the rules, but Gansey crouched down beside her, one of his knees against her back, one against her knees, and hugged her. She curled against him, hands balled up against his chest. He felt a hot tear slip into the dip of his collarbone. He closed his eyes against the sun through the window, burning hot in his sweater, foot falling asleep, elbow grinding into the metal bed frame, Blue Sargent pressed up against him, and he didn't move.

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

Are you alone?"
So that's what this call was about. For some reason, the question made my throat tighten. "No," I said, "Elvis is here. Would you like to talk to him?

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Tell me," Artemus whispered, " when you dream, do you dream of the stars?

She could not tell if they would be unable to have conversations because they would both want something from the other that was impossible. She could not tell if it was safer to stop a love story before it ever truly got under way.

By relegating the things we fear and don't understand to religion, and the things we understand and control to science, we rob science of its artistry and religion of its mutability.

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.

I don't care for werewolves. They're all right, I guess, if you go for the shedding, savaging the country-side thing. But they're not very scary nor very sexy and so what's the point?

And the third reason was that it suggested permanence. Blue had acquaintances at school, people she liked. But they weren't forever. While she was friendly with a lot of them, there was no one that she wanted to commit to for a lifetime. And she knew this was her fault. She'd never been any good at having casual friends. For Blue, there was family - which had never been about blood relation at 300 Fox Way - and then there was everyone else. When the boys came to her house, they stopped being everyone else.

It's very rude to keep a woman bound for any more than two or three or seven generations.

Mrs. Kavinsky lifted her cheek slowly from the toilet, lashes fluttering blearily, nostrils snotty.
"I am a figment of your imagination," he told her.
She nodded.

everytime i saw him it was like another jolt

Noah crouched over Gansey's body. He said, for the last time, 'You will live because of Glendower. Someone else on the ley line is dying when they should not, and so you will live when you should not.'
Gansey died.
'Goodbye,' Noah said. 'Don't throw it away.'
He quietly slid from time.

I must tell you that what you see tonight is completely real. It might not be amazing, it might not be shocking, it might not be scandalizing, but I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt: it is real. For that – I am deeply sorry.

This is the story of a boy who used to be a wolf, and a girl who became one

A single scream erupted from the crowd. It was a sort of experimental sound, trying to decide if now, finally, fear was the correct response.

Every third step I ran, my breath exploded out of me all in a rush. One step to suck in another cold lungful. One step to let it excape. One step of not breathing.

Disrespectful! My grandmothers are both dead."
"Well, Jesus. What did they die of?"
"Mom always said 'meddling.

Ganseys were creatures of habit, and he wanted Adam here, and he wanted Noah here, and he wanted everyone to like him, and he wanted to be in charge.

What a strange constellation they all were.

On the outside, the three Lynch brothers appeared remarkably dissimilar: Declan, a butter-smooth politician; Ronan, a bull in a china-shop world; Matthew, a sunlit child. On the inside, the Lynch brothers were remarkably similar: They all loved cars, themselves, and each other.

The only thing is, the more I see him and Corr together, the more I think of how unbearable it would be for Sean to lose him. But we can't both win.

Happiness isn't something this island yields easily; the ground is too rocky and the sun too sparse for it to flourish.

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

I've always loved reading fantasy. I used to pick out all the books in the library that had the little unicorn sticker on the side to show that they were fantasy.

Once the spear was uncovered, it wouldn't matter if the hero's truest love or family was in the room with him; the spear would kill them anyway. Killing was what it was good at, and so killing was what it did...The spear, Dad told me, was him...He told me to make sure Ronan was the name of the hero, and not the name of just another spear.

It was very quiet. No one else would have seen if not for the desert. But when the desert heard Pete Wyatt singing a love song, it took notice. The desert loved him, after all, and wanted him happy. So when it heard Pete singing, it rose a wind around them until the breeze sang gently like strings, and when it heard Pete singing, it provoked the air to heat and cool around every stone and plant so that each of these things sounded in harmony with his voice, and when it heard Pete singing, it roused Colorado's grasshoppers to action and they rubbed their legs together like a soft horn section, and when it heard Pete singing, it shifted the very ground beneath Bicho Raro so that the sand and the dirt pounded a beat that matched the sound of the incomplete heart that lived in Pete Wyatt.

As they moved through the old barn, Adam felt Ronan's eyes glance off him and away, his disinterest practiced but incomplete. Adam wondered if anyone else noticed. Part of him wished they did and immediately felt bad, because it was vanity, really:
See, Adam Parrish is wantable, worthy of a crush, not just by anyone, someone like Ronan, who could want Gansey or anyone else and chose Adam for his hungry eyes.

Sam did smile then, and said softly, Hey Angel.

Here was the thing: I was in love with Cole.
Or had been. Or was going to be. I couldn't tell the difference.

How do you know I wouldn't have just been happy with the truth? I don't care if my father was a deadbeat named Butternut. It doesn't change anything right now."
"His name wasn't really Butternut, was it?" Gansey asked Adam in a low voice.

I was losing sight of the wolf ahead of me; the one inside me seemed
closer all of a sudden.

Is that all?"

"That's all there is

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

But she could never forget that she was a tiny pilot in a several-thousand-pound weapon.

I know you love her, but you can live without her.

Train wreck! When a train takes a long time to go off the tracks, I don't like to call it a wreck. I like to call it a derailment.

He's not in here, Ronan told her as she stretched her neck long in an attempt to see on top of the bed. Grunting in response, Chainsaw unsucessfully searched for entertainment. Matthew was a loud, joyful kid, but his room was orderly and spare. Ronan used to think that this was because Matthew kept all his clutter inside his curly-haired head. But now he suspected it was because Ronan had not had enough imagination to dream a fully formed human. Three-year-old Ronan had wanted a brother whose love was complete and uncomplicated. Three-year-old Ronan had dreamt Matthew, the opposite of Declan in every way. Was he human?

These tantalizing clues used to be enough to sustain him. Now it was only the grail he wanted. He felt grown old inside his young skin. I tire of wonders, he thought.

He watched with an attentiveness both polite and flattering as Maura scraped her cards up from the sofa cushions. He leaned to pick up one she had missed.
"This fellow looks unhappy," he observed. The art depicted a man stuck with ten swords. The victim lay on his face, as most people did after being stuck with ten swords.
"That's a fellow after Calla's done with him," Maura said.

That doesn't make any sense."

"Nothing makes any sense anymore. Like, why am I talking to you? Why am I telling you this when you don't care?"

This question, at least, I knew the answer to. "But that's why you're telling me." I knew it was true. If we'd had the opportunity to deliver our confessions to anyone who actually cared about their contents, there was no way either of us would've opened our mouths. Sharing revelations is easier when it doesn't matter.

She was quiet. I heard other girls' voices in the background, high, wordless streams of conversation, followed by the hiss of running water, and then silence again. "Okay," she said.

"Okay, what?" I asked.

"Okay, maybe you can call me. Sometime. Now you have my number."

I didn't even have time to say bye before she hung up.

God, I'm tired."

"So sleep."

Gansey gave him a look. It was a look that asked how Ronan, of all people, could be so stupid to think that sleep was just a thing that could be so easily acquired.

Ronan said, "So let's drive to the Barns."

Gansey gave him another look. It was a look that asked how Ronan, of all people, could be so stupid as to think that Gansey would agree to something so illegal on so little sleep.

Ronan said, "So let's go get some orange juice."

Gansey considered. He looked to where his keys sat on the desk beside his mint plant. The clock beside it, a repellently ugly vintage number Gansey had found lying by a bin at the dump, said 3:32.

Gansey said, "Okay."

They went and got some orange juice.

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Descending the stairs from her room, I was tempted to go outside and find out if the shivering gut-wrench I'd felt as I came in really meant what I thought it did. But I stayed in the warmth of the house. I felt like I knew something about myself that I hadn't before, a bit of knowledge so new that if I became a wolf now, I might lose it and not remember it whenever I became Cole again.
I wandered down the main stairs, mindful that her father was somewhere in the house's depths while Isabel stayed up in her tower alone.
What would it be like, growing up in a house that looked like this? If I breathed too hard it would knock some decorative bowl off the wall or cause the perfectly arranged dried flowers to weep petals. Sure, my family had been affluent growing up - successful mad scientists generally are - but it never looked like this. Our lives had looked ... lived in.

Do you have darkness inside you?"
"Yes,"
"And do you want to be rid of it?"
This is a harder question to answer than one might think at first blush. Almost no one would think it's correct to answer this question with a no, but the truth is that we men and women often hate to be rid of the familiar, and sometimes, our darkness is the thing we know the best.

Okay," Maura said from the doorway, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "There are a few things going on here, obviously. Someone just tried to kill you." This was to Gansey. "You two are telling me that your friend was killed by the man who just tried to kill him." This was to Ronan and Adam. "You three are telling me that Neeve had a phone call with the man who killed your friend and just now tried to kill Gansey." This was to Blue, Persephone, and Calla. "And you're telling me that you've had nothing to do with him since that phone call.

I really love nature. I grew up in the country. But one of the things about nature is that it is beautiful but it's also very dangerous.

And i am a boy waiting-for the heat and fruitfulness of summer,waiting to see who will walk out of those woods for me. Waiting for my lovely summer girl