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I don't know about you, but I call impromptu vomiting harm.

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
Impromptu
Vomiting
Waking
Atheist
Harm
Call

More quotes by Karen Marie Moning

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Like is an emotion. Emotions”—he raised a hand, made a fist, clenched it tightly—“are like holding water. You open your hand, there’s nothing there. Better to be a weapon than a woman.
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Gazelles didn't lie down with lions, at least not unbloodied and alive.
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I’m Pri-ya again. I always will be with this man.
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I moistened my lips. His gaze fixed on them. I think I stopped breathing. He jerked so sharply away that his long dark coat sliced air, and turned his back to me. “Was that an invitation, Ms.Lane?” “If it was?” I asked, astonishing myself. What did I think I was doing? “I don’t do hypotheticals. Little girl.
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I can't help but see myself in them. The Seelie are who I was before my sister died. Pink, pretty, frivolous Mac. The Unseelie are who I've become, carved by loss and despair. Black, grungy, driven Mac.
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Caring is love. And love fights! Love doesn't look for the path of least resistance.
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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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You never knew what you could get away with until you tried.
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What are you? A man with a rope? Ha-ha.
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A lamb in a city of wolves.
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The running pants were tolerable, Drustan decided, relieved. The blue trews had clearly been a torture device and would have strangled a man's seed. Mayhap men were fashioned differently in her time. He hadn't seen one other bulge out there on the street mayhap they all had wee carrots in their trews.
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The inspector ate only two of my tiny sandwiches: the first because he hadnt expected it to taste so awful the second, I think, because hed thought surely the first must have been a mistake.
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When you know who I am. Let me be your man.
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He knows what I'm thinking. Always. We're connected. The atoms between us ferry messages back and forth.
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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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For the record, Irish, he informed her tightly, just in case she got the wrong idea, I kneel to no one.
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Like sheep, sidhe-seers herd by nature, until you *want* them to go somewhere. Then they're all fluffy bottoms and broken.
Karen Marie Moning
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Women have been repeating the same mistake since time began: falling for a man’s potential. We rarely see it the same way, and even more rarely care to achieve it.
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Dude. Post-apocalyptic world. Who does job applications anymore?” “I do.” I squint at it, then him. “What are you paying me?” I angle. “Dude. Post-apocalyptic world. Who does money anymore.” I snicker. First sign of any sense of humor he’s shown. Then I remember where I am and why. I wad it up and throw it at him. It bounces off his chest.
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What are you?” I said irritably. “In the Serengeti, Ms. Lane, I would be the cheetah. I’m stronger, smarter, faster, and hungrier than everything else out there. And I don’t apologize to the gazelle when I take it down.
Karen Marie Moning