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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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Karen Marie Moning
Age: 59
Born: 1964
Born: November 1
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Cincinnati
Ohio
Feels
North
Real
Across
Believe
Dreams
True
Dream
Stroll
Hard
Whimsical
Feel
Subconscious
Sometimes
Maps

More quotes by Karen Marie Moning

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A wing or a thigh? Ah, I'm afraid we don't have any thighs left.
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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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You are what you are. Deal with it or change.
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I love re-creating myself. Change means you get to choose again. Become something new. -Dani
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Hours later, Adam propped himself up on an elbow and stared down at Gabrielle, pondering what made beauty. He thought he was beginning to understand. It wasn't symmetry of features it wasn't perfection. It was uniqueness. That which one person had that no other possessed. That which was only their own.
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Gwen Cassidy needed a man. Desperately. Failing that, she'd settle for a cigarette.
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Question: When you’re one of the few people who can do something to fix a problem, just how responsible does that make you for it? Answer: It’s how you choose to answer that question that defines you.
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You can't go forward if you're looking backward. You run into walls that way.
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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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And now she was just Gabby, currently staying in a dreamy, magnificent castle in Scotland with a Fae prince who did all kinds of non-nasty, non-inhuman things like tearing up lists of names, and returning tadpoles to lakes, and saving people's lives. Not to mention kissing with all the otherwordly splendor of a horny angel.
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I make a new discovery that totally blows dying is the easy part. It's coming back to life that sucks.
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Barrons had just given me the most carnal, sexually charged hungry look I'd ever seen in my life, and I was pretty sure he didn't even know he had done it.
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Fire to my ice. Ice to my fever.
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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.
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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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Nobody home but She for Whom I Am the World. Can't go on like this, can't keep doing it.- Jericho Barrons
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Pretty girls don't have ugly mouths.
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Being threatened seems to being out the worst in me.
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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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I am a kite in a tornado but I have a long string. There is tension in my line. Somewhere, someone is holding onto the other end and, although it cannot spare me this storm, it will not let me be lost while I regain my strength. It is enough.
Karen Marie Moning