Quote

Don't celebrate yet, Ms. Lane. Don't believe anything is dead until you've burned it, poked around in its ashes, and then waited a day or two to see if anything rises from them.

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
Celebrate
Dead
Poked
Two
Lane
Around
Lanes
Anything
Waited
Believe
Rises
Ashes
Burned

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I would wear pink because I knew my future was anything but rosy. I would accessorize myself to the hilt, and I would wear flirty shoes because my world needed more beauty to counter all the ugliness in it. I would wear pink because I hated gray, I didn’t deserve white, and I was sick of black.
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You, Ms. Lane, are a menace to others! A walking, talking catastrophe in pink!
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Finally, he knew the kind of loving that made two one and understood Jane was his world. His ocean, his country, his sun, his rain, his very heart.
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I'd learned a thing or two. Hope strengthens. Fear kills.
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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.
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I've tried to move [the sidhe-seers] during times of peace and quiet and had the luck of a broken mirror nailed beneath an upside-down horseshoe with a ladder nearby that a black cat just walked under.
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Even I don't know what you're doing, and I know everything.
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When he comes, he makes a noise deep in his throat that is so raw and animal and sexual that I think if he merely looked at me and made that noise, I might explode in an orgasm.
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Good and evil are merely opposite sides of a coin. Get tossed in the air enough, it's easy to come down on the wrong side.
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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.
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Lose the pessimism, Ms. Lane. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.
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We have to save the world, I reminded him. He reached for me. The world can wait. I can't.
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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 believe in God? Dude. Only God could have created physics.
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