Maggie Stiefvater Quotes

Go home, Gideon. Please." "I am home." He caught me from behind and buried his face in mu soaked hair. "I'm with you.

Just the act of sleeping beside someone you liked to be with. Maybe that was love.

To have her here in bed with me, breathing on me, her hair in my mouth—I count that something of a miracle.

I want to wake up with you beside me in the mornings. I want to spend my evenings looking at you across the dinner table. I want to share every mundane detail of my day with you and hear every detail of yours. I want to laugh with you and fall asleep with you in my arms.

You know you're in love with somebody when you wake up next to them, comfortable despite your breath smelling like the week-old water at the bottom of a vase, when you are terribly excited to see them, to talk to them again, having missed them after all that sleep.

Beau’s arms slipped around my waist. I knew I should step away but I couldn’t make myself. This was home. Being in his arms like this was where I found peace.

Putting my hand in someone else’s has always been my definition of happiness. Before I fall asleep, often - in that small struggle not to lose consciousness and go into the greater world - often, before I get up the courage to go into the vastness of sleep, I pretend that someone has my hand in theirs, and then I go, go to that enormous absence of form that is sleep. And when even after that I don’t have courage, I dream.

I want to be where your heart is home I want to see you with the light in the morning There's never been such a beautiful warning to me, to me

And we stood like that. The joining of hands is highly underrated in the acts of intimacy. You kiss acquaintances or colleagues, casually to say hello or good-bye. You might even kiss a close friend chastely on the lips. You might quickly hug anyone you knew. You might even meet someone at a party, take him home and sleep with him, never to see him or hear from him again. But to join hands and stand holding each other that way, with the electricity of possibilities flowing between you? The tenderness of it, the promise of it, is only something you share with a few people in your life.

The desire to never leave your side, the desire to never see you again. The desire to see your face asleep on the pillow beside my face and to see your eyes open in the morning when I lie next to you—just watching you, waiting for you to wake up.

How could he convey to someone who'd never even met her the way she always smelled like rain, or how his stomach knotted up every time he saw her shake loose her hair from its braid? How could he describe how it felt when she finished his sentences, turnec the mug they were sharing so that her mouth landed where his had been? How did he explain the way they could be in a locker room, or underwater, or in the piney woods of Maine, bus as long as Em was with him, he was at home?

When you're with the person you love, you're home.

I want to be with you.

She craved a presence beside her, solid. Fingertips light at the nape of her neck and a voice meeting hers in the dark. Someone who would wait with an umbrella to walk her home in the rain, and smile like sunshine when he saw her coming. Who would dance with her on her balcony, keep his promises and know her secrets, and make a tiny world wherever he was, with just her and his arms and his whisper and her trust.

Willow nestled against him. He smoothed her long hair down the back of her T-shirt, feeling its softness. In a few moments she fell asleep again, her breathing warm and regular against his chest. Alex kissed her head, his arms tightening around her. As he drifted back to sleep himself, he saw a brief flash of the thousands of angels streaming in, but right then it seemed distant, almost unimportant. The only thing that mattered was that he was lying in a bed holding Willow, their bare legs entwined. It was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

When I'm lying wrapped up in your arms, the whole world just fades away. The only thing I hear is the beating of your heart.

When I'm in love with a woman, seeing her in something cozy makes me not want to let go of her when I'm holding her.

A boy is holding a girl so very tight in his arms tonight.

Home is the dearest spot on earth, and it should be the centre, but not the boundary, of the affections.

It's only a house when it's filled with people you love.

The smile on your face lets me know that you need me, there's a truth in your heart that says you'll never leave me, and the touch of your hand says you'll catch me whenever I fall.

Once you fall for someone, their smell can be a powerful thing. Women will wear their boyfriends' T-shirts, and throughout tales in history men have held on to their lover's handkerchief.

I love you - I am at rest with you - I have come home.

The sound of a mother's voice expresses a feeling of intimacy, which has a truly magical effect on the listener.

...most of the time we were alone and mixing up our souls ever more and ever more till it would be terribly hard to say good-by.