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Quote by Maggie Stiefvater

“After a long pause, Blue said, in a different voice, "I'm going to go sing myself to sleep. See you tomorrow. If you want company." The phone went quiet. It was never enough, but it was something. Gansey opened his eyes. Noah sat against the doorjamb of the kitchen-bathroom-laundry. When Gansey thought about it, he thought that possibly he had been sitting there for a long time. There was nothing inherently guilty about the moment except that Gansey burned with guilt and thrill and desire and the nebulous feeling of being truly known. It was on the inside of him, and the inside was all Noah ever really paid attention to. The other boy wore a knowing expression. "Don't tell the others," Gansey said. "I'm dead," Noah replied. "Not stupid.”

Quote by Maggie Stiefvater

Book:Blue Lily, Lily Blue
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Blue Lily, Lily Blue

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Author

Maggie Stiefvater
Maggie Stiefvater

Maggie Stiefvater is an American author known for her young adult novels. Her most famous works include 'The Scorpio Races' and 'The Raven Cycle'. Stiefvater's writing is celebrated for its unique narrative style and deep portrayal of the natural environment. more

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Author:Bernard Branson
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“Gansey stepped in then, putting his phone neatly into his pocket, fetching out his keys instead. There was still something stretched thin about his expression. He looked, in fact, like he had in the cave, his face streaked and unfamiliar. It was so strange to see him without his Richard Campbell Gansey III guise on in public that Blue couldn't stop staring at his face. No--it wasn't his face. It was the way he stood, his shoulders shrugged, chin ducked, gaze from below uncertain eyebrows. "SHE WAS ALRIGHT," Jesse assured him. "My head knew that," Gansey said. "But the rest of me didn't.”

GanseyThe Raven CycleMaggie StiefvaterBlue SargentBlue Lily Lily BlueThe Raven BoysBlue And Gansey
Book:Blue Lily, Lily Blue
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“It should have been impossible. No one should have been able to dream any of these things, much less all of them. But Adam had seen what Ronan could do. He'd read the dreamt will and ridden in the dreamt Camaro and had been terrified by the dreamt night terror. It was possible there were two gods in this church. Ronan crouched by the pew again, studying the list, his fingers running idly over his stubble as he thought. When he wasn't trying to look like an asshole, his face looked very different, and for a tilting moment, Adam felt the startling inequality of their relationship: Ronan knew Adam, but Adam wasn't sure he knew Ronan, after all.”

The Raven CycleMaggie StiefvaterRonan LynchAdam ParrishBlue Lily Lily BlueThe Raven Boys
Book:Blue Lily, Lily Blue
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“Adam hadn't even realized the ancient tape deck worked, but after a hissing few seconds, a tape inside jangled a tune. Noah began to sing along at once. "Squash one, squash two--" Adam pawed for the radio at the same time as Blue. The tape ejected with enough force that Noah stretched a hand to catch it. "That song. What are you doing with that in your player?" demanded Blue. "Do you listen to that recreationally? How did that song escape from the internet?" Noah cackled and showed them the cassette. It boasted a handmade label marked with Ronan's handwriting: Parrish's Hondayota Alone Time. The other side was A Shitbox Singalong. "Play it! Play it!" Noah said gaily, waving the tape. "Noah. Noah! Take that away from him," Adam said.”

The Raven CycleMaggie StiefvaterRonan LynchAdam ParrishBlue SargentBlue Lily Lily BlueThe Raven BoysNoah Czerny
Book:Blue Lily, Lily Blue
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“What - what - what are you doing?" he demanded. "I am almost six hundred years old," Magnus claimed, and Ragnor snorted, since Magnus changed his age to suit himself every few weeks. Magnus swept on. "It does seem about time to learn a musical instrument." He flourished his new prize, a little stringed instrument that looked like a cousin of the lute that the lute was embarrassed to be related to. "It's called a charango. I am planning to become a charanguista!" "I wouldn't call that an instrument of music," Ragnor observed sourly. "An instrument of torture, perhaps." Magnus cradled the charango in his arms as if it were an easily offended baby. "It's a beautiful and very unique instrument! The sound box is made from an armadillo. Well, a dried armadillo shell." "That explains the sound you're making," said Ragnor. "Like a lost, hungry armadillo." "You are just jealous," Magnus remarked calmly. "Because you do not have the soul of a true artiste like myself." "Oh, I am positively green with envy," Ragnor snapped. "Come now, Ragnor. That's not fair," said Magnus. "You know I love it when you make jokes about your complexion." Magnus refused to be affected by Ragnor's cruel judgments. He regarded his fellow warlock with a lofty stare of superb indifference, raised his charango, and began to play again his defiant, beautiful tune. They both heard the staccato thump of frantically running feet from within the house, the swish of skirts, and then Catarina came rushing out into the courtyard. Her white hair was falling loose about her shoulders, and her face was the picture of alarm. "Magnus, Ragnor, I heard a cat making a most unearthly noise," she exclaimed. "From the sound of it, the poor creature must be direly sick. You have to help me find it!" Ragnor immediately collapsed with hysterical laughter on his windowsill. Magnus stared at Catarina for a moment, until he saw her lips twitch. "You are conspiring against me and my art," he declared. "You are a pack of conspirators." He began to play again. Catarina stopped him by putting a hand on his arm. "No, but seriously, Magnus," she said. "That noise is appalling." Magnus sighed. "Every warlock's a critic." "Why are you doing this?" "I have already explained myself to Ragnor. I wish to become proficient with a musical instrument. I have decided to devote myself to the art of the charanguista, and I wish to hear no more petty objections." "If we are all making lists of things we wish to hear no more . . . ," Ragnor murmured. Catarina, however, was smiling. "I see," she said. "Madam, you do not see." "I do. I see it all most clearly," Catarina assured him. "What is her name?" "I resent your implication," Magnus said. "There is no woman in the case. I am married to my music!" "Oh, all right," Catarina said. "What's his name, then?" His name was Imasu Morales, and he was gorgeous.”

HumorIronySarcasmMagnus BaneRagnor FellCatarina LossMusic Instrument
Book:The Bane Chronicles
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