Interesting choice," Sullivan said. He slid his gaze over to Paul, who was drumming his fingers on the table in a manic, caffeine-inspired way and blinking a lot. Paul wasn't out-and-out singing along with the king of the dead, but he might as well have put out a big neon sign saying "How's My Driving? Ask Me About My Nerves: 1-800-WIG-N-OUT." --James
Maggie StiefvaterEvery third step I ran, my breath exploded out of me all in a rush. One step to suck in another cold lungful. One step to let it excape. One step of not breathing.
Maggie StiefvaterSam looked at me, yellow eyes catching and holding me. "I miss being me. I miss you. All the time.
Maggie StiefvaterI fell asleep to the scent of my wolf. Pine needles, cold rain, earthy perfume, coarse bristles on my face.
Maggie Stiefvater