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Dishonesty increases disorder exponentially. It's hard enough to communicate when you're telling the truth.
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
Increases
Disorder
Communicate
Telling
Increase
Truth
Enough
Exponentially
Hard
Dishonesty
More quotes by Karen Marie Moning
Mac: It's not the sidhe-seers. He stopped and went very still. JZB: Who is it? Mac: The MacKeltars. He was silent a long moment. Then he began to laugh, softly. JZB: Well played, Ms. Lane. Mac: I had a good teacher. JZB: The best. Hop on one foot, Ms. Lane. Mac and Barrons
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Some things are sacred. Until you act like they're not. Then you lose them
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There's nothing I can't live with. Only things I won't live without.
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I'd learned a thing or two. Hope strengthens. Fear kills.
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Life is too hard, too much to handle. Nobody told me there’d be days like these. How could nobody tell me there’d be days like these? How could they let me grow up like that—happy and pink and stupid?
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Keep hoping to see the light in her eyes. Even knowing it'll mean she's saying good-bye.
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It‘s funny how, when things seem the darkest, moments of beauty present themselves in the most unexpected places.
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Friends don’t build cages for each other.
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He closes his hand around mine and I hold on. I like his hand. It's big and holds easy but sure. It's the kind of hold that says, I got you if you want me, but I'll let you go if you feel like running for a while.
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The battle had been invisible to the naked eye, but the hardest ones are.
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So how did he look at me? Like it was his birthday and you were the cake.
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Lust is a thing of the blood. Doesn't need head or heart.
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Valhalla on the right. Paradise regained on the left. Stuck between a Godiva truffle and a chocolate eclair. Between a rock and a very hard place. Two very hard places from the looks of it.
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I like sex for breakfast, kid. I eat early and often.
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I love books, they're in my blood.
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It's a strange new world out there and the rules have changed: It's every princess for herself.
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When you know who I am. Let me be your man.
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And then what? Said, 'Oh, I'm so sorry, Ms. Lane, I didn't mean to wrinkle your lovely blouse. May I press that for you?' Or perhaps you gouged it with one of your pretty pink nails? I was really beginning to wonder what his hang-up with pink was, but I didn't resent the sarcasm in his voice.
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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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The nerve. Threatening you and not being precise about it.
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