9 things that remind me of Sam and Grace

“I leaned the side of my face against his ruff and remembered the golden wood he had shown me so long ago”

“Sam, I really want to buy a red coffee pot, if they exist”

“I’ve folded one thousand paper crane memories of me and Grace, and I’ve made my wish”

“I leaned down to hit a switch, turning on a string of Christmas lights stapled around the ceiling. They sparkled through the strange shapes made by the slowly spinning birds, and cast moving shadows, like firelight, across Grace’s face.”

“Hanging in the sky directly above us was the aurora borealis. Like a brilliant pink road, snaked through the air and disappeared behind the trees, a darker purple aura clinging to one side of it”

“This is Rilke. I wish I had written it for you”

“As the hours crept by, the afternoon sunlight bleached all the books on the shelves to pale, gilded versions of themselves and warmed the paper and ink inside the covers so that the smell of unread words hung in the air.”

When we’re married, we can go to all the oceans. Just to say that we did”

“When we’re married, can we go to the ocean? I’ve never been.”
“When we’re married, we can go to all the oceans. Just to say that we did”

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Grace Brisbane. There was nothing particularly special about her, except that she was good with numbers, and very good at lying, and she made her home in between the pages of books. She loved all the wolves behind her house, but she love one of them most of all. And this one loved her back. He loved her back so hard that even the things that weren’t special about her became special: the way she tapped her pencil on her teeth, the off-key songs she sang in the shower, how when she kissed him he knew it meant for ever. Hers was a memory made up of snapshots: 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. Linger by Maggie Stiefvater

Candice Accola/Caroline Forbes as Isabel Culpeper
All at once, not a whisper, nor word, then all at once…