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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.

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
Heart
Loving
Made
Rain
Kind
Ocean
World
Sun
Understood
Knew
Two
Jane
Country
Finally

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Gah, some chicks should be shot. Put out of everyone else's reproduction pool.
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Dude, the bush is ready. Why you still beating around it?” “I’ve lived a long time, kid, and I’ve never heard anyone mutilate the English language quite like you.
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Life's a choice: you can live in black and white, or you can live in colour. I'll take every shade of the rainbow and the gazillion in between!
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Dude, got eyes? I'm collecting evidence. [...] In Ziploc bags. I think they're Glad. They look impartial to me.
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The single greatest advantage anyone can take into any battle is hope.
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people were just out of control! . . . They've all got cell phones stuck to their ears and yet I've never seen such distance between people trying so hard to be close.
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How do you kill a vampire?-Mac Hope hes not-Barrons
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Then you will simply have to see for yourself. Touch me, lass. Feel my ...sock. His silver gaze sizzled with challenge, as he unzipped his zipper. Uh-uh. She shook her head for added emphasis. Then find me a pair of trews that doona threaten to sever my manparts.
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Okay, Barrons, it's time. I am not helping you shave your legs. he said instantly. Oh please. As if I'd let you.
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I miss her. I don't know how to live without her. There is a hole inside me that nothing fills. If you don't find something to fill that hole, someone else will. And if someone else fills it, they own you. Forever. You'll never get yourself back.
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Time heals. No, it doesn't. At best, time is the great leveler, sweeping us all into coffins. We find ways to distract ourselves from the pain. Time is neither scalpel nor bandage. It is indifferent. Scar tissue is not a good thing. It is merely the wound's other face.
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You can’t look at someone with your eyes and take their measure. You have to look with the heart.
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The two of you are getting downright chatty, aren't you, Ms. Lane? When did you last see him? what else did he tell you? I'm asking the questions tonight. If an illusion of control comforts you, Ms. Lane, by all means, cling to it.
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I wondered what one wore to visit a vampire. The chic red sweater set didn't go so well with my darker hair, and I was afraid it might be construed as a flirtatious invitation to color me bloodier.
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Life is not black and white. The closes we ever get to either of those colors is wearing them.
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Is anyone who's supposed to be dead actually dead?
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Feelings, emotions - they are neither right nor wrong. They cannot be assigned a value. Feelings *are*. By labeling a feeling wrong, you force yourself to ignore that feeling. And what you most need is to feel it, let it burn through you, then get on with life.
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I’m Pri-ya again. I always will be with this man.
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You can't save people from themselves. You can only try to wake them up.
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Oh, for heaven's sake, she thought with droll exasperation, this certainly explains a lot. It's no wonder I haven't been able to keep my hands off the blasted man since the day I met him. He's an artifact! A Celtic one at that!
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