Karen Marie Moning Quotes

Silence isn't golden, it's deadly. It's a vacuum that fills up with ghosts.

Either I can stay up here and freeze my ladycrackers off trying to find a falling star, or you can do something about it yourself. I— and my freezing nether regions— would thank you most assuredly. As would all of Dalkeith. Do something, man.” - Grimm

When you know who I am. Let me be your man.

Were not there you, I'd be not too.

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

I think dating courtesies are common courtesies that should be practiced in most all civilized encounters. I pine for the days of good, old-fashioned manners.

It was a land of shadows and ice. Of gray. And grayer. And black. -The Unseelie prison of Aedan

Was he a good kisser, Ms. Lane?” Barrons asked, watching me carefully. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand at the memory. “It was like being owned.” Some women like that.” Not me.” Perhaps it depends on the man doing the owning.” I doubt it. I couldn’t breathe with him kissing me.” One day you may kiss a man you can’t breathe without, and find breath is of little consequence.” Right, and one day my prince might come.” I doubt he’ll be a prince, Ms. Lane. Men rarely are.

We will K‘Vruck the world.

You’re early.” I give him a mutinous look. Of course he thinks my being early is about him. It’s not. Mac was at Chester’s last night at eight. I think she’s hunting me. Since I can’t be late to avoid her, I have to be early. “Watch broke. Thought I was on time.” “You don’t wear a watch.” “See? I knew I had a problem. I’ll just dash out and get one. Be back tomorrow. On time.

My city. I pondered that phrase, wondered why Barrons felt that way. He never said “our world.” He always said “your world.” But he called Dublin his city. Merely because he'd been in it so long? Or had Barrons, like me, been beguiled by her tawdry grace, fallen for her charm and colorful dualities? I looked around “my” bookstore. That was what I called it. Did we call the things of our heart our own, whether they were or not?

It's just that in the Deep South, women learn at a young age that when the world is falling apart around you, it's time to take down the drapes and make a new dress.

He had a come-and-get-me-baby-I'm-pure-trouble-and-you're-gonna-love-it kind of attitude.

Cat got your tongue? And what a lovely tongue it is. I know. It licked every inch of me. Repeatedly. For months," He purred but with steel in the velvet

He knows what I'm thinking. Always. We're connected. The atoms between us ferry messages back and forth.

Although it may not seem like it, this isn’t a story about darkness. It’s about light. Kahlil Gibran says Your joy can fill you only as deeply your sorrow has carved you. If you’ve never tasted bitterness, sweet is just another pleasant flavor on your tongue. One day I’m going to hold a lot of joy.

I'd turn and run but I'm anchored by two dudes that could hold the Titanic during a tsunami.

The White Mansion isn't boring, lass. Never boring. It's the grand demesne the Unseelie King built for his concubine. It's a living, breathing love story, testament to the brightest passion that ever burned between our races. You can follow the scenes through if you've time enough and are willing to risk getting lost for a few centuries.

Have you ever had one of those moments when time just freezes? You know, when the world suddenly goes deathly still, and you could hear a pin drop, and the squishing sound your heart makes is so loud in your ears you feel like youre drowning in blood, and you stand there in that suspended moment and die a thousand deaths, but not really, and the moment passes and dumps you out on the other side of it, with your mouth hanging open, and an erased blackboard where your mind used to be?

The entire time I'm burning in Hell, I'll regret each tear I made you weep. But if Hell were the price for twenty days with you, I'd condemn myself again and again. - Cian MacKeltar

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

Being nearly naked around Barrons felt a lot like going to a shark convention lightly basted in blood.

As his other hand began to slip around her waist, his body brushed against hers, and there was no mistaking the thick, hard ridge grazing her jean-clad bottom. Heavens, did that thing never subside? The rest of him might be mortal, but his immortal erection certainly didn't scan to have gotten the memo.

When Christian pushes into the brick wall of the building catty-corner to the rear of BB&B—first left on the Dark Zone side—and disappears, I melt down in a fit of the giggles. I toss a rock at the spot where he vanished. It bounces off the brick and clatters to the cobblestone. I'm feeling twenty shades of Harry Potter's train station, especially when he pokes his head out of the wall and says impatiently, "Come on, lass. This is hardly my favorite place to be.

I heard there are no male sidhe-seers." Where did you hear that?" Around." And which one of those are you in doubt about Ms. Lane?" Which one of what?" Whether I see the Fae, or whether I'm a man. I believe I've laid your mind to rest on the former; shall I relieve it on the latter?" He reached for his belt. Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "You're a leftie, Barrons." Touche, Ms. Lane," he murmered.

Words are easy; lies as simple as parting your lips and breathing.

Jericho Barrons just told me he loves me.

There are two kinds of people in the world Ms. Lane: those who survive no matter the cost and those who are walking victims.

I wasn't prepared for death. Nobody is. You lose someone you love more than you love yourself, and you get a crash course in mortality. You lie awake night after night, wondering if you really believe in heaven and hell and finding all kinds of reasons to cling to faith, because you can't bear to believe they aren't out there somewhere, a few whispered words of a prayer away.

One day you will kiss a man you can't breathe without, and find that breath is of little consequence.

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

Are you decent?" a woman's voice called, pushing the door cautiously ajar. "Nay, but we're clothed," Cian purred.

Mac: "It's not the sidhe-seers." He stopped and went very still. JZB: "Who is it?" Mac: "The MacKeltars." He was silent a long moment. Then he began to laugh, softly. JZB: "Well played, Ms. Lane." Mac: "I had a good teacher." JZB: "The best. Hop on one foot, Ms. Lane." Mac and Barrons

If aught must be lost, ‘twill be my honor for yours. If one must be forsaken, ‘twill be my soul for yours. Should death come anon, ‘twill be my life for yours. I am Given.

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

Some things are sacred. Until you act like they're not. Then you lose them

Valhalla on the right. Paradise regained on the left. Stuck between a Godiva truffle and a chocolate eclair. Between a rock and a very hard place. Two very hard places from the looks of it.

I have a black sense of humor. You try living my life, see what color yours turns.

If he was winter, I was summer. If I was sunshine, he was night. A dark and stormy one.

Unbelievable," I heard Christian mutter behind me. "She toops them both?" I head Drustan ask. "And they permit it?" Dageus sounded baffled. I looked between V'lane and Barrons. "This isn't even about me." "You're wrong about that." Barrons reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "You know how to find me if you want me." He was walking away. "More nifty acronyms?" He was gone.

Even now, my back was still arched with sensual invitation, my bottom was questing up like a cat in heat, and my every move was supple, sinuous. I was one great big come-hither.

Words can be twisted into any shape. Promises can be made to lull the heart and seduce the soul. In the final analysis, words mean nothing. They are labels we give things in an effort to wrap our puny little brains around their underlying natures, when ninety-nine percent of the time the totality of the reality is an entirely different beast. The wisest man is the silent one. Examine his actions. Judge him by them.

It's not my fault who I am. The only think that's my fault is what I choose to do

Since I’ve been on my own, I’ve been eating a lot of popcorn, cereal, instant noodles, and snack bars. I have a hot plate in my bedroom, a microwave, and a small fridge. That’s the kind of kitchen I know how to get around in.

I see God in a sunrise, not in repetitious ritual.

The sun's nearly level with the horizon, right behind his head, making this weird halo effect around his face—as if! I'm surprised he doesn't smell like brimstone. He probably has a red pitchfork and hides horns under his hair.

I was a twenty-two-year-old single white female alone in a strange country where my sister had been killed.

See me when you look at me.