Quotes from Karen Marie Moning

It's nobody's responsibility to save me but mine.

Come with me, lass." His voice was low and urgent. "Think of your Scots blood. Doona you wish to stand on the soil of your ancestors? Doona you wish to see the heathery fields and moors? The mountains and the lochs? I'm no' a man who oft makes promises, but I promise you this"—he broke off, laughing softly as if at some private joke—"I can show you a Scotland no other man could ever show you.

Drop your blinders and raise the sewer to eye level; admit you're swimming in shit. If you don't acknowledge the turd hurtling down the drain toward you, you can't dodge it. You have to face every challenge together.

Gray is but another word for light black. Gray is never white. Only white is white. There are no shades of it.

The thought that she'd left him by choice had driven him mad. But she hadn't. She'd been taken. He'd loved her for all time. Before she was made. After he'd believed she was gone. Sunshine to his ice. Frost to her fever. I wished them forever. You, too, beautiful girl. The Unseelie King was gone.

Deep feelings indeed, Circenn thought morosely. Deep disgust with myself.

Sometimes you plug the hole any way you can, and worry about fixing the boat later. If the choices are sinking today or tomorrow, I'll take tomorrow.

Sighing, I invite the earth to suspend them indefinitely, freezing them in battle, many once again mutilated and deformed, as solidly as Winter's iced statues littering the grounds.

Nay, lass, he didn't say it. His eyes did." Whose eyes has he been looking at? she wondered, because the only eyes she'd seen held murder in their depths.

close only counts in hand-grenades and horseshoes.

And all the devil ever wants in exchange, a small voice inside her purred caustically, is a soul.

What can one word hurt? It isn't like letting a woman have the power for a change can bring about the end of my world as I know it, for fuck's sake.

A bottle of beer mysteriously tips itself over and pours all over her head. Now she looks like a drowned rat. "It does have perks," I agree. "Little testy tonight?" "That woman's boobs do not belong in your face." "It's not as if I can see yours at the moment." "Well, you're damn well going to feel them. Soon." "One hopes," he murmurs.

There are a few absolute no-brainer rules in my world. Real close to the top of this list is: if an Unseelie prince runs from it, I'm going to run from it, too. I'm not even going to ask any questions. I'm just going to vamoose with all my might.

I still possess the True Magic even if I can't use it, and he doesn't.

Just the latest piece of ass, McCabe." I no longer had to bite down. I was speechless. McCabe laughed. "She talk?" "Not unless I tell her to. Her mouth's usually too full.

This is my idea of a sex dream? Clearly, I need more practice. Scrambling to the edge of the bed, she claps a hand to her mouth, and laughs. "I belched!" she proclaims delightedly. "I always wondered what it would feel like." She frowns. "Ugh. Like a wee gaheena was trying to crawl up my throat. Not a pleasant sensation at all. But once it started coming out, it felt wonderful." She's

I want to keep her from ever changing into something so terrible as I've become. I want to shelter her from the hard truth that life takes from you, whittles away at your hope and scrapes the flesh from your bone and leaves you so changed you can't even recognize yourself in the mirror anymore.

Fuck normal. Give me a good war any day.

People are capable of varying degrees of truth. The majority spend their entire lives fabricating an elaborate skein of lies, immersing themselves in the faith of bad faith, doing whatever it takes to feel safe. The person who truly lives has precious few moments of safety, learns to thrive in any kind of storm. It's the truth you can stare down stone-cold that makes you what you are. Weak or strong. Live or Die.

They're going to die on your doorstep because you're too much of a prick to save them." "The world is not my responsibility." "Obviously.

expect to get it. It doesn't work like that." "Of course it does." "Does not." She says blankly, "In what kingdom in what universe doesn't it work like that?" "The only one that matters: mine!" I thunder. Whirling

Turned out I was wrong. It wasn't the dark I should have been afraid of, at all." —Mac's journal

In Georgia, the light is brilliant, warm, and confident—even cocky on occasion—flooding every nook and cranny, elevating the mood and baring skin.