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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.

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
Math
Love
Brilliant
Structure
Pretty
Perfect
Music
Everything
Much

More quotes by Karen Marie Moning

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Gwen Cassidy needed a man. Desperately. Failing that, she'd settle for a cigarette.
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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 are what you are. Find a way to live with it.
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The real thinkers of the world aren't the best dressed. Staying on top of the latest fashions, accessorizing, and presenting oneself is time consuming. It takes a lot of effort, energy and concentration to be incessantly happy and perfectly groomed. You meet somebody like that- ask yourself what they're running from.
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You have splendid breasts, lass, he purred, cupping the plump mounds. Splendid, he repeated stupidly, and she almost laughed. Men loved breasts any shape or form, they just loved them. -Drustan to Gwen
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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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You're Mac, and I'm Jericho. And nothing else matters.
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Oh, drop the act, Tinkerbell, and get rid of my problem. Then we’ll talk.
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Oh ye of little faith. Not for IYD... But you didn't even try.
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Never underestimate a well-dressed bimbo.
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Kid, you might just annoy me into killing you.
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It seemed Barrons had finally gotten his cake and eaten it too.
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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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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.
Karen Marie Moning
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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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He didn't just kiss, he claimed ownership. Took her mouth with urgency, as if his life depended on his kissing her.
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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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Please tell me we don't grow up and turn into the adults that drive us crazy.
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All I need is a badly mangled, irate sentence stalking me.
Karen Marie Moning
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How will we get back up? I worried. I have a different route in mind for our return trip. Does it involve stairs? I asked hopefully. No. Of course not. How silly of me. And for our return adventure we will be scaling the side of Mount Everest, hiking boots to be provided by our trusty sponsor, Barrons Books and Baubles.
Karen Marie Moning