I'd rather live a hard life of fact than a sweet life of lies.
Karen Marie MoningTag: karen-marie-moning shadowfever
Could words and symbols wield such power? Could mere scribblings on parchment unmake a person's moral fiber? Weren't we made of sterner stuff?
Karen Marie MoningHis eyes bore into mine. He watches every nuance, every detail of every expression, as if his existence depends on it. He fucks with the single-minded devotion of a dying man hunting God.
Karen Marie MoningWhen you were too young and naïve to see the risks, I incurred your wrath to protect you. Scream at me for it if you must. Thank me for it when you finally grow up.
Karen Marie MoningTag: growing-up
Electric, wild, one foot in the swamp. Never going to crawl all the way out. And I wanted to have sex with whatever he was.
(Mac about Barrons)
Don't accuse me of being morbid when I'm merely the product of a culture that buries the bones of the ones they love in pretty, manicured flower gardens so they can keep them nearby and go talk to them whenever they feel troubled or depressed. That's morbid. Not to mention bizarre. Dogs bury bones, too.
Karen Marie MoningA butterfly flaps its wings somewhere and the wind changes, and a warm front hits a cold front off the coast of western Africa and before you know it you've got a hurricane closing in. By the time anyone figured out the storm was coming, it was too late to do anything but batten down the hatches and exercise damage control.
Karen Marie MoningIf he was winter, I was summer. If I was sunshine, he was night. A dark and stormy one.
Karen Marie MoningHe doesn’t beat me,” I said irritably. “I’d kill him if he did.”
“She would. She has a temper. Stubborn, too. But we’re working on that, aren’t we, Ms. Lane?
From who?”
“From whom, I believe is the correct phrasing.”
“All right, from-the-fuck-whom, Ms. Lane?
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