I hammered him with my fists. He just stood and took it. He didn't suffer graciously, he looked pissed off to no… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Dying is overrated. Human sentimentality has twisted it into the ultimate act of love. Biggest load of bullshit in the world. Dying… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
I have found there to be little distance between the unlatching of a chain and the spreading of a woman’s legs. As… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“I can either be a victim—or a winner. Fuck victimhood. I don’t wear it well; it clashes with my wardrobe.” — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Ancient eyes had stared at me, filled with ancient grief. And something more. Something so alien and unexpected that I'd almost burst into tears.… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Some things are sacred. Until you act like they're not. Then you lose them — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Sometimes, Ms. Lane," he said, "one must break with one's past to embrace one's future. It is never an easy thing to do. It… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“I think I’m under control, that I’ve stripped away all weaknesses. That committing to my mission has made me impervious. I’m wrong. The thought… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it. Desire is life. Hunger to see the next sunrise or sunset, to touch… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“Finally, someone had seen him. And what had he done? Let her get away. Undermined by his disgusting human anatomy. It had just been… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“Our sex is fierce. We will both be bruised. "I want it to always be like this," I tell him. "Try holding onto that… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Keep hoping to see the light in her eyes. Even knowing it'll mean she's saying good-bye. — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
Strength wasn‘t about being able to do everything alone. Strength was knowing when to ask for help and not being too proud to do… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“He swapped the fistful of my shirt for one in my hair, and ground his mouth against mine.” — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
