Maggie Stiefvater Quotes

You woke in the morning with the weight of doom on your head. You lay with eyes shut wondering why you dreaded the day; was it a debt, was it a lost love? -and then you remembered the nightmare....This was no time for beauty, for love, or private future....There was no future; everyone waited, marked time, waited. For what?

I would have a flick of fear, as in a dream when you find yourself in the wrong building or have forgotten the time for the exam and understand that this is only the tip of some shadowy cataclysm or lifelong mistake.

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

Whatever you think this is going to be like," she whispers, "it's going to be worse.

There is even a happiness - that makes the heart afraid.

Fear comes not from God but from the evil one.

Horror can be contained within a book, given form and meaning. But in life, horror has no more form than it does meaning. Horror just is.

I've always had this in a kind of worst-case dark imagination. I want to know what the dark form in the window is. I want to know what the noise under the staircase is.

Fear has many faces.

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.

I feel there is this looming cloud over my life.

There's, like, a dark needle or a nail that lives at the back of all of our heads, and that's your fear.

The genre of horror is really just a way to manage much larger, much more terrifying realities in our daily worlds.

My adult life is filled with the things horror movies are made of.

I'm not ashamed to say I fear something.

I'm driven by fear.

Even now, as I write this, I can still feel that tightness. And I want you to feel it--the wind coming off the river, the waves, the silence, the wooded frontier. You're at the bow of a boat on the Rainy River. You're twenty-one years old, you're scared, and there's a hard squeezing pressure in your chest. What would you do? Would you jump? Would you feel pity for yourself? Would you think about your family and your childhood and your dreams and all you're leaving behind? Would it hurt? Would it feel like dying? Would you cry, as I did?

The time for hope is gone, and come for fear.

I strained to remember where I was or even what I was wearing, touching my green corduroy jeans and staring at the exposed-brick wall. As my paranoia deepened, I became convinced that I had died and no one was telling me.

I've crossed some kind of invisible line. I feel as if I've come to a place I never thought I'd have to come to. And I don't know how I got here. It's a strange place. It's a place where a little harmless dreaming and then some sleepy, early-morning talk has led me into considerations of death and annihilation.

Write about the thing that frightens you most.

Sometimes I’m afraid that I’m losing myself.

I was afraid and did not know what I feared, which is the worst kind of fear.

Suspense-is Hostiler than Death-Death- tho soever Broad, Is just Death, and cannot increase- Suspense-does not conclude-.

...crushed between the fears of going forward and the dread of going back.