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.
Karen Marie MoningDude, the bush is ready. Why you still beating around it?โ โIโve lived a long time, kid, and Iโve never heard anyone mutilate the English language quite like you.
Karen Marie MoningI have found there to be little distance between the unlatching of a chain and the spreading of a womanโs legs. As if they can never unbar only a single entrance. Itโs a disease called hope. Women suffer from it greatly.
Karen Marie MoningDubh is do?" I was incredulous. It was no wonder I hadn't been able to find the stupid word. "Should I be calling pubs poos?" "Dubh is Gaelic, Ms. Lane. Pub is not.
Karen Marie MoningI figure if there is a God, he or she isnโt paying attention to what we build or if we follow some elaborate rules, but copping a ride on our shoulders, watching what we do ever day. Seeing if we took this great big adventure called life and did something interesting with it.
Karen Marie MoningI'm a bartender. I like recipes. They're concretes. Was the drink recipe for seduction one shot charm and two shots self-deception, shaken, not stirred?
Karen Marie MoningOne day you do meet a man who kisses you and you canโt breathe around it and you realize you donโt need air. Oxygen is trivial. Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it. Desire is life. Hunger to see the next sunrise or sunset. To touch the one you love. To try again.
Karen Marie Moning