Write the book you've always wanted to read, but can't find on the shelf.
Maggie StiefvaterI could just barely see the dark curve of his shoulder, and something about the shape it made, the gesture it suggested, filled me with a sort of fierce, awful affection.
Maggie StiefvaterYou two are a strange pair. You are a pair, aren't you?"
"We're in training.
He is slow, and the sea sings to us both, but he returns to me.
Maggie StiefvaterIt'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.
Maggie StiefvaterI didn't know," I start truthfully, "that it was the hard way when I started on it.
Maggie StiefvaterClutter is my natural habitat.
Maggie StiefvaterCole," I said, "Don't lose this number.
Maggie StiefvaterTags: forever cole-st-clair isabel-culpeper
As the sun shines low and red across the water, I wade into the ocean. The water is still high and brown and murky with the memory of the storm, so if there’s something below it, I won’t know it. But that’s part of this, the not knowing. The surrender to the possibilities beneath the surface. It wasn’t the ocean that killed my father, in the end. The water is so cold that my feet go numb almost at once. I stretch my arms out to either side of me and close my eyes. I listen to the sound of water hitting water. The raucous cries of the terns and the guillemots in the rocks of the shore, the piercing, hoarse questions of the gulls above me. I smell seaweed and fish and the dusky scent of the nesting birds onshore. Salt coats my lips, crusts my eyelashes. I feel the cold press against my body. The sand shifts and sucks out from under my feet in the tide. I’m perfectly still. The sun is red behind my eyelids. The ocean will not shift me and the cold will not take me.
Maggie StiefvaterTags: young-adult maggie-stiefvater the-scorpio-races
Hi,' I said, and I hugged her. I missed her more now that I actually had her in my arms than when I hadn't.
Maggie StiefvaterTags: christian-3
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