"The cure for anything is salt water. Sweat, tears or the ocean."
└ First words of each book (1/7)
"I had a weird, empty feeling inside me. Not a bad sort of empty. It was a sort of lack of sensation, like being in pain for a long time and then suddenly realizing that you’re not anymore."
— Maggie Stiefvater, Linger
"you know what? I’m totally at peace with being big-boned. and i was gay long before i knew what sex was. it’s just who i am, and that’s great. i don’t want to be thin or conventionally beautiful or straight or brilliant. no, what i really want -and what i never get- is to be appreciated. do you know what it’s like to work so hard to make sure everyone’s happy, and to have not a single person recognize it? i can work my ass off bringing together the other will grayson and jane - no appreciation, only grief. i write this whole musical that’s basically about love, and the main character in it -besides me, of course- is phil wrayson, who needs to figure some things out but is all-in-all a pretty wonderful guy. and does will get that? no. he freaks out. i do everything i can to be a good boyfriend with you - no appreciation, only grief. i try to make this musical so it can create something, tho show that we all have something to sing - no appreciation, only grief. this musical is a gift, will. my gift to the world is not about me. it’s about what i have to share. there’s a difference - i see it but i’m worried that i’m the only freakin’ one who sees it. you think i have it easy, will? are you really dying to try on these size fifteens? because every morning when i wake up, i have to convince myself that, yes, by the end of the day, i will be able to do something good. that’s all i ask - to be able to do something good. not for myself, you whinny shithead bastard complainer who, incidentally, i really really like. but for my friends. for other people."
'Small animals are a great problem. I wish God had never created small animals, or else that He had made them so they could talk, or else that He'd given them better faces. Space. Take moths. They fly at the lamp and burn themselves, and then they fly right back again. It can't be instinct, because it isn't the way it works. They just don't understand, so they go right on doing it. Then they lie on their backs and all their legs quiver, and then they're dead. Did you get all that? Does it sound good?'
'Very good,' Grandmother said.
Sophia stood up and shouted, ‘Say this: say I hate everything that dies slow! Say I hate everything that won’t let you help! Did you write that?’
"Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget. There is nothing magical in them at all. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us."
— Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
John Ajvide Lindqvist, Little Star