Maggie Stiefvater
Maggie Stiefvater
Maggie Stiefvateris an American writer of Young Adult fiction. She currently lives in Virginia...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionYoung Adult Author
Date of Birth18 November 1981
CityHarrisonburg, VA
CountryUnited States of America
eye smell islands
The piebald mare paws at the sand; I see her digging out of the corner of my eye and hear her grinding her teeth. That bridle's her curse, this island her prison. She still smells of rot.
keys land people
He was jingling his keys in the pocket of his coat -- one of those barn coats described as rugged and classic and four hundred dollar that were usually worn by people who spend more time in Land Rovers than barns.
hated courses
Of course he was a part of what I hated about myself. Everything was a part of what I hated about myself. It wasn't really personal.
guitar grace masters
The guitar," I said, "will only obey its master." "Yeah," Cole agreed, "but Grace isn't here." He grinned at me slyly.
beautiful lonely art
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.
father long boxes
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.
dark cds weapons
It seemed like the best weapons in my life had always been the most innocuous: empty plastic bins, a blank CD, an unmarked syringe, my smile in a dark room.
perfect people grace
The thing I was beginning to figure out about Sam and Grace, the thing about Sam not being able to function without her, was that that sort of love only worked when you were sure both people would always be around for each other. If one half of the equation left, or died, or was slightly less perfect in their love, it became the most tragic, pathetic story invented, laughable in its absurdity. Without Grace, Sam was a joke without a punch line.
expression saws expecting
I wasn’t sure what expression I was expecting her to wear when she saw that it was me. I’d braced myself for disgust or anger. But she just looked at me like I was — nothing. An annoyance, maybe.
track matter six
Nobody ever sees this part,” I said. “It doesn’t matter if it’s pretty.” “So it’s like track six on an album,” Cole said.
grace volkswagens unbalanced
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.
song writing done
I'm not done writing songs about you yet.
monday long feelings
It was a strangely disorienting feeling, to have something you'd relied on for so long start to change, like finding out that gravity no longer worked on Mondays.
months made life-worth-living
she's the only thing that's made my life worth living and if that's all I get, a few months with her- a few days, it's more than I've ever hoped for (Luke)