We are shoulder to shoulder due to the size of the cab, and if Gratton is made of flour and potatoes, Sean is made of stone and driftwood and possibly those prickly anemones that sometimes wash up on shore. — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share Image
I'm pleased to see that the cab is cluttered with cough drop wrappers and empty milk bottles and bits of mud-smeared newspapers made brittle by age. Neatness makes me feel like I have to be on my best behavior. Clutter… — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share Image
Sam reached his hand toward mine and I automatically put my fingers in his. With a guilty little smile he pulled my hand toward… — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
“Once upon a time, there lived a boy, and he had to risk everything to keep what he loved. But really the story was:… — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
I think-I need to ask an embarrassing question. Do you think I could borrow a pair of scrubs? I-uh-my pants-" "Oh!" Cried the poor… — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
We dance, we dance. You hold the thread of my soul. You spin, you spin. And you unravel the part from the whole. We… — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
Mum once told Dad that vices are only vices when looked at through the frame of society. — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
“At least when he was at Aglionby he could turn over his papers to see the grades, concrete proof of his success at something.” — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
“That's the one." In Puck Connolly's custody. That might be the last I see of that jacket.” — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
“I asked,”Are you going to pick up next time I call you?” ”I did this time didn’t I?” “Say yes.” “Yes. Conditionally yes.”…... …”What… — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
Tell me what it's like. The race." "What it's like is a battle. A mess of horses and men and blood. The fastest and… — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
“I felt a tickle on my skin; it took me a moment to realize that Cole was driving his die-cast Mustang up my arm.… — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
Happiness isn't something this island yields easily; the ground is too rocky and the sun too sparse for it to flourish. — Maggie Stiefvater Copy Share
