...the sound of our lack of conversation amplified by the echo of our footsteps on the stone around us.
Maggie StiefvaterThat night, like every other night since Iโd met her, I curled Grace into my arms, listening to her parentsโ muffled movements in the living room. They were like busy little brainless birds, fluttering in and out of their nest at all hours of the day or night, so involved in the pleasure of nest building that they hadnโt noticed that it had been empty for years.
Maggie StiefvaterI watched the edges of the leaves slowly unfold, fluttering in the breeze. "How long did you wait?" It would've been unbearably romantic if he'd had he courage to look into my face and say it, but instead, he dropped his eyes to the ground and scuffed his boot in the leaves- countless possibilities for happy days- on the ground. "I haven't stopped.
Maggie Stiefvater