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
tired wake-up want
I'm so tired I never want to wake up again. But I've figured out now that it was never them that made me feel that way. It was just me, all along.
puck weakness looks
I say, 'I will not be your weakness, Sean Kendrick.' Now he looks at me. He says, very softly, 'It's late for that, Puck.
brother boys years
I grew up with boys of all kinds - I have two brothers, and I was in a bagpipe band for several years.
player world this-world
we're watchers of this world aren't we? not players
running memories kissing
It wasn't the sort of kiss I'd had with him before, hungry, wanting, desperate. It wasn't the sort of kiss I'd had with anyone before. This kiss was so soft that it was like a memory of a kiss, so careful on my lips that it was like someone running his fingers along them.
sky sea doe
Does anyone ask you why you stay, Sean Kendrick?" "They do." "And why do you?" "The sky and the sand and the sea and Corr.
tools destruction ability
My words are unerring tools of destruction, and I’ve come unequipped with the ability to disarm them.
world notes
You missed World Hist." "Did you get notes for me?" "No. I thought you were dead in a ditch.
kids self gluten
If she and Sam ever had kids, they'd be gluten-intolerant out of self-defence.
aunt sitting half
Saw him where?" "While I was sitting outside with one of my half aunts." This seemed to satisfy Ronan was well, because he asked, "What's the other half of her?" "God, Ronan," Adam said. "Enough.
blue people church
He strode over to the ruined church. This, Blue had discovered, was how Gansey got places - striding. Walking was for ordinary people.
strange strange-things
It's a strange thing, to be talked about instead of talked to.
brother wrestling waiting
It's only because I've lived with brothers that I realize, after a moment, that he's not looking outside but rather inside, wrestling with something inside himself. And there's nothing for it but to wait.
summer war hero
As always, there was an all-American war hero look to him, coded in his tousled brown hair, his summer-narrowed hazel eyes, the straight nose that ancient Anglo-Saxons had graciously passed on to him. Everything about him suggested valor and power and a firm handshake.