It felt wrong to be so proud of something that I had absolutely nothing to do with, but I couldn't help myself.
Maggie StiefvaterWould we be so enamored with dystopian fiction if we lived in a culture where violent death was a major concern? It wouldn't be escapism.
Maggie StiefvaterThere was nothing particularly intimate about the way they sat, but something about the scene made Gansey feel strange, like he’d heard an unpleasant statement and later forgotten everything about the words but the way they had made him feel.
Maggie StiefvaterThe journal and Gansey were clearly long acquainted, and he wanted her to know. This is me. The real me.
Maggie StiefvaterHers was a memory made up of snapshorts: being dragged through the snow by a pack of wolves, first kiss tasting of oranges, saying goodbye behind a cracked windshield. A life made up of promises of what could be: the possibilities contained in a stack of college applications, the thrill of sleeping under a strange roof, the future that lay in Sam's smile. It was a life I didn't want to leave behind. It was a life I didn't want to forget I wasn't done with it yet. There was so much more to say.
Maggie Stiefvater