Quote

Last night you said you wanted to know what to expect so you could better select your attire. I told you we were going to visit a vampire in a Goth-den tonight. Why, then, Ms. Lane, do you look like a perky rainbow?

Karen Marie Moning

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Karen Marie Moning
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: November 1
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Cincinnati
Ohio
Better
Visit
Perky
Wanted
Vampire
Attire
Look
Tonight
Dens
Looks
Expect
Goth
Going
Told
Lane
Like
Lasts
Lanes
Last
Select
Night
Rainbow

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Kid, you might just annoy me into killing you.
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Sometimes I worry that there’s not enough room in my brain for both my dreams and reality that I’m a hard drive with limited gigabytes and one day I won’t be able to maintain the firewall between them. I wonder if that’s what senility is.
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Get back on the bike and tell me where to go. I'll tell you where to go, I muttered sourly, and he laughed.
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Some people bring out the worst in you, others bring out the best, and then there are those remarkably rare, addictive ones who just bring out the most. Of everything.
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You were firing questions at me today, trying to get inside my head. You asked if I believe in God. I told you of course I do - I've always had a strong sense of self
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I love music because it's so fecking brilliant. Music is math, and math is the structure of everything and pretty much perfect.
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Lose the pessimism, Ms. Lane. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.
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A wing or a thigh? Ah, I'm afraid we don't have any thighs left.
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What are you? A man with a rope? Ha-ha.
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All my life, up until that moment, I'd had a warm, protective blanket wrapped around me, knitted of aunts and uncles, purled of first and second and third cousins, knot-tied with grandmas and grandpas and greats. That blanket had just dropped from my shoulders. I felt cold, lost and alone.
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You and I more than anyone else in the universe are perfect for each other.
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He doesn’t beat me,” I said irritably. “I’d kill him if he did.” “She would. She has a temper. Stubborn, too. But we’re working on that, aren’t we, Ms. Lane?
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I'm his locomotive and he's my shield.
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Are we, like, having a conversation? Did you just, like, ask me for advice and listen with an open mind? If so, then yes, I would call this a conversation
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As she lifted the glittering strand of diamonds from the box, a small slip of paper fell out. She caught it as it wafted toward the floor. Four words in ancient script, an arrogantly slanted scrawl. Accept these, accept me. Well, she thought, blinking, that was certainly direct and to the point. -Adam's note to Gabrielle
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-I'm going to kill the kid. - Barrons says faintly. Ryodan makes a burbling sound like a bodly laught. -Get in line
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Hours later, Adam propped himself up on an elbow and stared down at Gabrielle, pondering what made beauty. He thought he was beginning to understand. It wasn't symmetry of features it wasn't perfection. It was uniqueness. That which one person had that no other possessed. That which was only their own.
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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.
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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.
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Beautiful women rarely possess sufficient depth of character to survive without their pretty feathers.
Karen Marie Moning