Karen Marie Moning Quotes

I flash him number seventeen of my thirty-five Looks of Death.

Old witch passed on a few good things but they'll never counter all the evil she did.

One day, kid, you'll be willing to mortgage your fucking soul for somebody."
"I don't think you should say fucking around me. In case you forgot, I'm only fourteen, And news flash, dude,I've got no soul. There aren't any banks. And there isn't any currency. Ergo. Never. Going. To. Happen."
"I'm not sure you could be any more full of yourself."
I cut him a smug look. "I'm willing to try.

Dying for someone isn't the hard thing. The man that dies escapes. Plain and simple. Game over. End of pain. Alina was the lucky one. Try living for someone. Through it all-good, bad, thick, thin, joy, suffering.

I moved to the counter. A note was propped on the register. Welcome home, Ms. Lane. Arrogant, overconfident jackass.

Why did you laugh right before you lost consciousness."
"Death's an adventure. I lived big. Rigor mortis makes your face stick. So, who knew how to thaw me?"
"Death's an insult."
"At least an affront," I agree.

S'cool. I've lived most of my life under threat of "one of these days" for one reason or another. Superheroes do.

You & I are here but the wind is everywhere. Cast no words upon it you don't wish followed back to you.

The most confused we ever get is when we're trying to convince our heads of something our heart knows is a lie.

Self-pity is wasted emotion. It merely prolongs whatever trauma you suffered by keeping it alive in your head. Dude, you survived it. Move on.

It's so easy to lie. What's even worse is how we cling to those lies. We beg for the illusion so we don't have to face the truth, don't have to feel alone.

I always come back. He does, too. Actions speak.

I have to balance the scales and there's a lot weighing in against me.

Using your own time to make someone else's life better is, like, the nicest thing you can do for anybody.

What we achieve at our best moment doesn't say much about who we are. It all boils down to what we become at our worst moment.

I want results and I know how to get them. He's always telling me to ask. Tonight I'm asking.

People treat you as badly as you let them treat you. Key word there: let.

I close my eyes and ride the mindless bliss. It's all I can do. Be. Feel. Live.
I'm Pri-ya again.
I always will be with this man.

There are only shades of gray. Black and white are nothing more than lofty ideals in our minds, the standards by which we try to judge things, and map out our place in the world in relevance to them. Good and evil, in their purest form, are as intangible and forever beyond our ability to hold in our hand as any Fae illusion. We can only aim at them, aspire to them, and hope not to get so lost in the shadows that we can no longer aim for the light.

As if they were supposed to have made a direct hit, to have a long, full, crazy, wild, passion-filled, child-strewn life together, but somehow they'd come at each other from the wrong angle, and missed what could have/would have/should have been.

They'll try to kill you."
"Good thing I'm hard to kill." Only one thing concerned me. "Will you?"
"Never. I'm the one who will always watch over you. Always be there to fuck you back to your senses when you need it, the one who will never let you die.

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Cages were funny things.
Although I'd escaped with my body long ago, only recently had my heart finally broken free.
Healed by the love of a man who'd been willing to sacrifice everything, even give me up if he had to, just to see me rise.

He touches my face.
There is something different in his touch. It feels like he's saying good-bye, and I know a moment of panic.
But my dream sky darkens and sleep's moon fills the horizon.
"Don't leave me." I thrash in the sheets.
"I'm not, Mac."
I know I am dreaming then, because dreams are home to the absurd and what he says next is beyond absurd.
"You're leaving me, Rainbow Girl.

His hand was on my throat, and he was crushing me back with his body into the cold steel beam behind me. "Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it's none of your business, I have lost. Many things. And no, I am not like any other player in this game and I will never be like V'lane, and I get a hard-on a great deal more often than occasionally." He leaned fully against me and I gasped.

"Sometimes it's over a spoiled little girl, not a woman at all. And yes, I trashed the bookstore when I couldn't find you. You'll have to choose a new bedroom, too. And I'm sorry your pretty little world got all screwed up, but everybody's does, and you go on. It's how you go on that defines you." His hand relaxed on my throat. "And I am going to tattoo you, Ms. Lane, however and wherever I please.

Confronted by something she couldn't explain, she pretended it wasn't there. Dude, ostrich much?

You really know when people are lying?"
He nodded.
"Prove it."
"Got a boyfriend?"
"No."
"Is there a man you're interested in?"
"No."
"You're lying."
I stiffened. "I am not."
"Yes, you are. He may not be a boyfriend but there's someone you're interested in enough that you're thinking about having sex with him."
I glared. "I am not. And you can't possibly know that."
He shrugged. "Sorry, Mac, I hear the truth even when the person isn't admitting it to themselves." One dark brow lifted. "I don't suppose it might be me?"
I blushed. He'd just made me think it. Us. Naked. Wow. I was a perfectly healthy woman, and he was a gorgeous man. "No," I said, embarrassed.
He laughed, gold eyes glittering. "Lie. A whopper. Gotta love that. Have I told you I'm a big believer in fulfilling a woman's fantasies?

I turned around slowly, and looked up at him. He stiffened and sucked in a shallow breath. After a moment, he touched my cheek.
"Such naked pain," he whispered.
I turned my face into his palm and closed my eyes. His fingers threaded into my hair, cupped my head, and brushed the brand. It heated at his touch. His hand tightened at the base of my skull and squeezed, and he raised me slowly to my tiptoes. I opened my eyes and it was my turn to inhale sharply. Not human. Oh, no, not this man.
"Never show it to me again." His face was cold, hard, his voice colder.

I know who the fuck you are," he clips the words out coldly. "You're the only one that doesn't. Dani could have anticipated the Hag's movements. You could not. Jada.

Aye, Jessica, I like you. And I'm not just stuck with you. You fit me here, woman. He thumped his chest with his fist.

You would bound off faster than a hare if I were such a fool." He grasped her shoulders and pulled her close. "I would advise against running from me. I would catch you easily, and the chase would only arouse me." When she tried to shrug his hands off her shoulders, he said, "Is this the fashion in which you thank me for freeing you?" he teased. "You might grant me a boon for my efforts.

Why should I let you take it?" "Because you owe me." "Why do I owe you?" "Because I put up with you.

Perspective is a funny thing. You think your back is to the wall, then something worse corners you, and the first threat looks puny in comparison.

Do you, Gavrael Roderick - " "I do." Jillian nudged him. He arched a brow and frowned. "Well, I do. Must we go through all this? I do. I swear a man has never 'I do'd' more fervently than I. I just want to be married to you, lass.

Immortals. Pains in the asses, every one of them.

She's not that kind of girl, the endless string type. You get a shot at something like her once in a lifetime. And if you screw it up there's a special place in hell for you.

I may be more sparing with mention of my gang rape in the future. Although I enjoy baiting this bear, I don't enjoy his pain. Just his fire.

A wing or a thigh? Ah, I'm afraid we don't have any thighs left.

He bristles with impatience. I feel the lust rolling off him, the violence beneath it.
"You said you wanted something. What is it, Ms. Lane?"
I smile coolly. "The deed to my bookstore, Barrons. What else?

Holy psychotic PCs, Robin, we've a murderous MacBook on the loose!

Some things the gut distills to their essence no matter how hard you try to factor in compassion and mercy and understanding. One of them killed the other. And there is violence in my heart.

Rape scars deep.

I looked from one to the other, and realized that Barrons and my dad were having one of those wordless conversations he and I have from time to time. Though the language was, by nature, foreign to me, I grew up in the Deep South where a man's ego is roughly the size of his pickup truck, and women get an early and interesting education in the not-so-subtle roar of testosterone.

I love you more eternal than pi.

Have you been in a fight? No, let me guess; you saved a wounded dog, again?" I said dryly. That was the excuse he'd used last time. "I had a nosebleed." "Nosebleed, my petunia." "Petunia?" "Ass, Barrons. As in you are one.

The kiss he gave her was not meant to seduce, it was meant to mark a woman's soul, and it was working. Dominant like the man, hungry, demanding. Beckoning forth the secret Chloe that harbored hunger every bit as deep as his. He was a dark, seductive shadow, all around her, and she was drowning in him.

We expect Evil to announce itself.

It's why I laugh so much. If my face is going to stick, I'm going to like looking at it.

She'd had her way, and had the top
the third time
informing him he was her 'own private playground'.

I want to drop to all fours and bay like a wild thing drunk on being hungry and strong, a beast that could fuck for days without cease if I could only find someone that could take it as hard and long a I can give it.

I am stretched on your grave and will lie there forever ...

I'm not here to argue for the world. That's not in my job description. I'm just trying to save it.

No, no, no, no physics over breakfast!

His eyes. She got lost in them for a long moment, wondering how she could have ever thought them tiger-gold. They were the color of dark whisky. And filled with some emotion. She stared. Something like ... Despair?

His eyes flared dangerously. Did the lass think to share such intimacies with him and then rescind them? Och, nay, Dageus MacKeltar didn't go backward. She would find that out soon enough.

I contemplate the notion that maybe regrets are a process of accumulation of time, as unavoidable as a closet full of clothes and more bags of them in the attic. Is accumulated baggage what makes people get old? If so, they need to clean out their fecking attics, send the stuff to consignment shops and remember how to walk around naked like kids, little bellies sticking out, always ready for a good laugh.

A little blood never bothers me.

He makes a pained sound. Bloody hell, woman, I think a part of me wants to keep you this way.

Love, once given, is forever. It canna simply go away.

Those who were so long imprisoned in ice and darkness seem to find the sunlight jarring, painful. The longer I walk around with this grief inside me, the more I understand that. It's as if sunshine is a slap in the face that says, Look, the world's all bright and shiny! Too bad you're not.

Someday I'm going to push Jericho Barrons as far as I can and see what happens.

As she watched, he examined the can intently, read the ingredients, then returned it to the shelf and chose another, repeating his thorough study of it.
The contrast between his rough, tough-guy appearance and the domestic act he was performing did funny things to her head.
She had a sudden, breathtaking vision of a dark-haired little boy sitting in the seat of the cart, laughing up at Cian, grabbing at his swinging braids with chubby little fists, while his daddy inspected the ingredients on a jar of baby food. Her mind's eye
picture of sexy, strong man with beautiful, helpless child made something soft and warm blossom behind her chest.

Well, forgive the fuck out of me for being shocked senseless when I realized he wasn't dead. Why didn't you tell me he was the beast, Ryodan? Why did we have to kill him? I know it's not because he can't control himself when he's the beast. He controlled himself last night when he rescued me from the Book. He can change at will, can't he? What happened in the Silvers? Does the place have some kind of effect on you, make you uncontrollable?"
I almost slapped myself in the forehead. Barrons had told me that the reason he tattooed himself with black and red protection runes was because using dark magic called a price due, unless you took measures to protect yourself against the backlash. Did using IYD require the blackest kind of magic to make it work? Would it grant his demand to magically transport him to me no matter where I was but devolve him into the darkest, most savage version of himself as the price?
"It was because of how he got there, wasn't it?" I said. "The spell you two worked sent him to me like was it was supposed to, but the cost was that it turned him into the lowest common denominator of himself. An insane killing machine. Which he figured was all right, because if I was dying, I'd probably need a killing machine around. A champion to show up and decimate all my enemies. That was it, wasn't it?"
Ryodan had gone completely still. Not a muscle twitched. I wasn't sure he was breathing.
"He knew what would happen if I pressed IYD, and he made

Don't accuse me of being morbid when I'm merely the product of a culture that buries the bones of the ones they love in pretty, manicured flower gardens so they can keep them nearby and go talk to them whenever they feel troubled or depressed. That's morbid. Not to mention bizarre. Dogs bury bones, too.

It had taunted, provoked, brushed its big, hard body against hers at every opportunity, and in general lounged about looking like the epically horny fairy it was reputed to be.

~Gabby's thoughts on Adam

You loved me."
It wasn't a question, but he answered it readily. "I do. More than life. My heart. I didn't just pick a sweet turn of phrase to name you, but spoke from my soul when I named you thus. Without my heart I couldn't live. And I couldn't breathe without you."
"Are you a man who has more than one heart?"
"Nay. Only this one. But it's bitter and dark now from the pain I've brought you.

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The things I could teach her ... if she could survive them.

Sometimes my dreams feel so real it's hard to believe they're just the subconscious's stroll across a whimsical map that has no true north.

Emotion apparently made fools of even geniuses.

I'm restless, bored, and invisible. A dangerous thing for any woman to be.

Who's the little girl?" Don't speak, Barrons had told me on the way there, no matter what anyone says. I don't care how pissed off you might get. Swallow it. His derisive "little girl" ringing in my ears, I bit down hard and didn't say a word. "Just the latest piece of ass, McCabe." I no longer had to bite down. I was speechless.

I'm taller than my father, and taller than two of the stones at Ban Drochaid."
"I meant in feet," she clarified. Speaking of the mundane gave her a measure of calm.
He eyed his boots a moment and appeared to be doing some rapid calculations.

Tell me not to kiss you, Jessica. Tell me right now. And best you make me believe you mean it," he warned softly, a breath from her lips. "Don't kiss me." She wet her lips. "Try again," he said flatly. "Don't kiss me." She swayed toward his body, a magnet to steel. "Try again," he hissed. "And best 'ware, woman, 'tis your last chance." Jessi took a deep breath. "Don't." Another deep breath. "Kiss me?" He laughed, a cocky, rich purr of a sound.

He didn't just kiss, he claimed ownership. Took her mouth with urgency, as if his life depended on his kissing her.

Everything else falls away except for the family you're born into, choose, or make; the circle of love you'll die to protect and keep near you. The only thing that keeps us rooted in the past is our refusal to embrace the present.

The Tuatha De do not speak of Tuatha De matter to"
he gave her an icy sneer
"mere mortals."
"Well, mister-mere-mortal-yourself," she bristled right back at him, "maybe you'd better get used to it, because whether or not you like it, you need at least one of us 'mere mortals' to help you become a pompous-asshole-fairy-thing again."
He tried to maintain his icy stare, but his lips curved despite his efforts and he shook with silent laughter. A pompous-asshole-fairy-thing. The indignity of it. Had any of his race ever been called such a thing? Nothing cowed the woman. Nothing. "Point made, ky-lyrra," he said dryly.
-Gabrielle and Adam

How will we get back up?" I worried. "I have a different route in mind for our return trip." "Does it involve stairs?" I asked hopefully. "No." "Of course not. How silly of me. And for our return adventure we will be scaling the side of Mount Everest, hiking boots to be provided by our trusty sponsor, Barrons Books and Baubles.

Occam's razor: The simplest explanation that accommodates all variables is most likely the truth.

Brutality is the refuge of the dull of mind, ka-lyrra. Only a fool conquers when he might instead seduce.

~Adam Black to Gabrielle O'Callaghan

He sounds a little too eager. Like homicidal maniac eager.

I snicker at my joke. Dude, if ya can't crack yourself up, ain't never gonna crack anybody else up.

And if that hadn't been enough, the castle cat, obviously female and obviously in heat, had sashayed in, tail straight up and perkily curved at the tip, and wound her furry little self sinuously around Adam's ankles, purring herself into a state of drooling, slanty-eyed bliss. Mr. Black, my ass, she'd wanted to snap (and she liked cats, really she did; she'd certainly never wanted to kick one before, but please - even cats?), he's a fairy and I found him, so that makes him my fairy. Back off.
-Gabby's thought on Adam

Curious lass, aren't you? I suspect it oft gets the best of you.

I inhaled his scent. He was near, a few feet away. Lust nearly buckled my knees. He was a tireless lover. There was nothing off-limits with him.

You crazy, beautiful, maddening woman, that's because you trained yourself to live that way. And wisely so. It's what kept you alive. It's been your saving grace. You learned young the necessity of leaving the pain behind and embracing the next good thing. Few people ever achieve that clarity. Prolonged grief is self-mutilation; a blade you turn on yourself. It doesn't bring them back and only keeps you trapped in misery. You were healing the way people should heal but they punish themselves instead. For what - being the one who lived? Those we love will die. And die. And die. Life goes on. You choose how: badly or well.

Dying is overrated. Human sentimentality has twisted it into the ultimate act of love. Biggest load of bullshit in the world. Dying for someone isn't the hard thing. The man that dies escapes. Plain and simple. Game over. End of pain ... Try living for someone. Through it all-good, bad, thick, thin, joy, suffering. That's the hard thing.

I've never been nonplussed before but I know the definition and I imagine this must be what it feels like. It's not quite flummoxed, or bewildered. Words have subtle nuances. A year or two ago I might have been flabbergasted. This is a slightly different kind of stymied. Yes. I think it's nonplussed.

Now you know how I justify my addictions - if I can pay less for it than I would at Wal-Mart, I get to have it.

Och, Dani my darling, you're not giving me a single reason to wait for you to grow up. You're giving me a thousand reasons not to."
It's Christian! I'm so glad it's him, not one of the other princes! I turn around in his arms and tip my head back. "Hi, Christian!" I beam at him. He's hotter than the other princes. I'm glad I got him. I'll take the others, too, but I want him first. "I want to grow up. Now. Hurry.

The more excited I get, the more I vibrate."
"Now there's a thought," Lor says.
"If you mean what I think you mean, you want to shut the fuck up and never think it again," Ryodan says.

Life is an iceberg and I've only been seeing the tip.

You've been doing something bad since the moment you met me, lass.

Who and what we surround ourselves with is who and what we become. In the midst of good people, it is easy to be good. in the midst of bad people, it is easy to be bad.

Christ. Women. I don't get you. I protect you, you get pissy. I don't protect you, you get pissy. I open doors, I'm patronizing. I don't open doors, I'm a caveman, wich by the way, I am. What the bipolar fuck? Beginning to think you babes don't have any clue what you want, or change your mind constantly just to dick with us.

We justify our heartless calls by our commitment to one day defeat all our enemies so the people can live the remainder of their days in peace and prosperity. We've become politicians.

I love books, they're in my blood.

I realized early in my career that precisely what one reader
doesn't like is what another reader loves. Collectively, any writer's audience presents a mishmash of expectations that can never all be met. What one-tenth of my readership may not be crazy about the other nine-tenths savors. The moment you start altering a book or a painting or any type of art as if it's a public collaborative, you crucify its soul. I'd rather irritate a few people and delight a lot than touch no one." ~ Karen Marie Moning

There are more balls in twenty feet of street here then there are in all of Dublin, and I'm proud to be swaying in the nut sack.

Lose the pessimism, Ms. Lane," Barrons said when I informed him of my thoughts. "It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I know why I'm obsessed with her. She's the innocence I've lost. As I was going dark, she was getting nothing but brighter.

I doona think Dageus will be teaching you a blethering thing," he said in a dangerous voice, and that time his lips did brush her ear. "And I bid you keep your lips off my brother, lest I confine you to your chambers.