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
If that moment had been a real thing, it would've been a butterfly, flapping and fluttering toward the sun.
She was past present future. I wanted to answer, but I was broken.
My parents had always been so careful with me, until the day they decided I needed to die.
Are you sure you want to go out with someone with that kind of history? ...He could have a psychotic break. I read that people get those when they're twenty-eight.
I'm trying to make you think I'm a decent person. Telling you I saw you naked while I was another species does not help my case
Some days seem to fit together like a stained glass window. A hundred little pieces of different color and mood that, when combined, create a complete picture.
No, you have to talk first. You wanted to talk. It means you say something and I respond and you talk back again. It's one of the human race's most shining achievements. It's called a conversation.
Books are more real when you read them outside.
It is possible to be in love with you just because of who you are.
The world needs more love at first sight.
Not dead-dying. Funny how two things could be so similar and yet so far apart
Face flushed, I shook my head and stared at my white-knuckled grip on the bed. Of all my pet peeves, condescending adults were probably at the top of the list.
It was as if I had thought all along I was a complete picture and he had revealed I was a puzzle and had taken me apart and put me back together again.
There was no sun; there was no light. I was dying. I couldn't remember what the sky looked like. But I didn't die. I was lost to a sea of cold, and then I was reborn into a world of warmth.
Now I am the unknown, the unknowable.
Grace reached over and began stroking her fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes and let her drive me crazy.
It was exactly what I wanted-beautiful distraction.
This is Rilke. I wish I had written it for you.
Right now, it's hard to imagine that it is raining anywhere in the world.
Grace: The idea was immediately unbearable, only because I wanted it to be true so badly it hurt
It was the perfect moment to tell her. This is my last year. But I couldn't say it. Not yet. I wanted another minute, another hour, another night of pretending this wasn't the end.
Your hair is all funky in the morning.
Rilke says: Verweilung, auch am Verstrautesten nicht, ist uns gegeben - We are not allowed to linger, even with what is most intimate.
Hello, Grace's parents. I'm Grace's boyfriend. Please notice the chaste distance between us. I am very responsible and have never had my tongue in your daughter's mouth.
It's all you think about, all you talk about, and all you want us to talk about. What in the world would we call something like that? Oh, yeah! An obsession!
You're beautiful and sad. Just like your eyes. You're like a song I heard when I was a little kid but forgot I knew until I heard it again.
Sharing revelations is easier when it doesn't matter.
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.
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.
More Maggie Stiefvater Quotations (Based on Topics)
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