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
saving wanted
you wanted saving didn't you?
motivation father eye
Sea does the sweep of his eyes that he does, the one that goes from my head to my toes and back again and makes me feel that he's scanning the depths of my soul and teasing out my motivations and sins. It's worse than confession with Father Mooneyham. At the end of it, he says, "If you help, this will go faster.
summer brother kings
When Ronan thought of Gansey, he thought of moving into Monmouth Manufacturing, of nights spent in companionable insomnia, of a summer searching for a king, of Gansey asking the Gray Man for his life. Brothers.
sorry blue looks
Calla readjusted, wrapping the silk around her other thigh instead. "Which one's he again? The pretty one?" Blue and Gansey exchanged a look. Blue's look said, I'm so, so sorry. Gansey's said, Am I the pretty one?
sexy night light
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.
car world sound
There was no other sound in the world like a car crash.
bombs like-you
It's a bomb. Just like you.
disappointment sadness people
You really didn't see the sadness or the longing unless you already knew it was there. But that was the trick, wasn't it? Everyone had their disappointment and their baggage; only, some people carried it in their inside pockets and not on their backs.
kings sleep knives
He danced on the knife’s edge between awareness and sleep. When he dreamt like this, he was a king. The world was his to bend. His to burn.
sorry saved im-sorry
I'm sorry no one saved you.
mother father hair
My father said once that if I didn't have my mother's ginger hair, I wouldn't blush or curse as easily. Which I though was unfair. I hardly ever curse or blush, even though I've had plenty of days that required both.
mother forever delight
That was a weird thought. My straight-up mother being bothered by faeries? Delia was even weirder. I could picture the scene. Faerie: Come away, human. Delia: Why? Faerie: Untold delights and youth forever. Delia: I'm holding out for a better offer. Ta.
night tree desire
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.
mother vocabulary people
In his head, his mother said, 'People shout when they don’t have the vocabulary to whisper'.