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Please tell me we don't grow up and turn into the adults that drive us crazy.

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
Crazy
Grows
Turns
Tell
Drive
Adults
Please
Grow
Turn

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Woman, you are a thousand kinds of fool.
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I have studied humans for a small eternity. Intent infuses their every movement. Road maps to their inner navigation, plastered all over their skin. Born to be slaves.
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In my experience, anybody besides your mom that feeds you is going to want something in exchange for it.
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You believe in God? Dude. Only God could have created physics.
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You might be able to thrash your way out of a spiderweb, but thrashing in quicksand doesn’t work. The harder you fight, the more ground you lose. Struggling merely expedites your inevitable defeat.
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It seemed Barrons had finally gotten his cake and eaten it too.
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Tuatha De do not walk the human realm alone. Actually, they don't walk alone much anywhere. Only the occasional rogue Fae will do so. Like yourself? Yes Most of my kind have no fondness for solitude. Those who walk alone are not to be trusted. Really, she said dryly. Except for me, he amended, with a faint, insouciant grin.
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Born in a generation that thinks cynical and disenchanted is cool, sometimes I'm a little off the beaten track.
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Never underestimate a well-dressed bimbo.
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Yesterday is skin on snake, to be shed many times.
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It's why I laugh so much. If my face is going to stick, I'm going to like looking at it.
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If I'm a little girl, then that makes you a serious pervert.
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I'll never get laid trying to keep you safe. You're a train wreck on steroids.
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Silence isn't golden, it's deadly. It's a vacuum that fills up with ghosts.
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The kind of person that thanks another person never survives. Have you learned nothing?
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Who would ever understand me?
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The nerve. Threatening you and not being precise about it.
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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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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.
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Words are easy lies as simple as parting your lips and breathing.
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