And when he did that, my hands curled into fists because I thought about touching his face like maybe I could catch joy in my hands and hold it. Karen Marie Moning More Quotes by Karen Marie Moning More Quotes From Karen Marie Moning When he kisses me again, the last part of me that could stand myself dies. Karen Marie Moning kiss-me kissing lasts The wound you refuse to dress is one that will never heal. You gush lifeblood and never even know why. It will make you weak at a critical moment when you need to be strong. Karen Marie Moning strong dresses needs Sheep are always looking for a new shepherd when the terrain gets rocky. Karen Marie Moning terrain shepherds sheep In my experience, anybody besides your mom that feeds you is going to want something in exchange for it. Karen Marie Moning want-something mom want Who and what we surround ourselves with is who and what we become. In the midst of good people, it is easy to be good. in the midst of bad people, it is easy to be bad. Karen Marie Moning midst easy people Some things are sacred. Until you act like they're not. Then you lose them Karen Marie Moning shadowfever sacred loses Don't celebrate yet, Ms. Lane. Don't believe anything is dead until you've burned it, poked around in its ashes, and then waited a day or two to see if anything rises from them. Karen Marie Moning ashes two believe You never knew what you could get away with until you tried. Karen Marie Moning get-away Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it's none of your business, I have lost. Many things. Karen Marie Moning none-of-your-business lanes lost It's just that in the Deep South, women learn at a young age that when the world is falling apart around you, it's time to take down the drapes and make a new dress. Karen Marie Moning encouraging encouragement fall One day you will kiss a man you can't breathe without, and find that breath is of little consequence. Karen Marie Moning lost-love kissing romantic I have studied humans for a small eternity. Intent infuses their every movement. Road maps to their inner navigation, plastered all over their skin. Born to be slaves. Karen Marie Moning maps movement skins When Barrons looks at me like that, it rattles me. Lust, in those ancient, obsidian eyes, offers no trace of humanity. Doesn’t even bother trying. Savage Mac wants to invite it to come out and play. I think she’s nuts. Nuts, I tell you. Karen Marie Moning eye nuts thinking It's hard to say what makes the mind piece things together in a sudden lightning flash. I've come to hold the human spirit in the highest regard. Like the body, it struggles to repair itself. As cells fight off infection and conquer illness, the spirit, too, has remarkable resilience. It knows when it is harmed, and it knows she the harm is too much to bear. If it deems the injury too great, the spirit cocoons the wound, in the same fashion that the body forms a cyst around infection, until the time comes that it can deal with it. Karen Marie Moning fashion fighting struggle What are you?” I said irritably. “In the Serengeti, Ms. Lane, I would be the cheetah. I’m stronger, smarter, faster, and hungrier than everything else out there. And I don’t apologize to the gazelle when I take it down. Karen Marie Moning gazelles stronger would-be Her absence in my life was so painful that it was a presence. Karen Marie Moning painful absence A comfort zone can be a mental state:Belief in God is a lot of peoples's comfort zone. Dont get me wrong, I'm not knocking faith; I just dont think you should have it because it makes you feel safe. I think you should have it because you do. Because somewhere deep inside you, you know beyond equivocating that something greater, wiser and infinitely more loving than we're capable of understanding has a vested interested in the universe, in the way things turn out. Because you can feel that, as much as the forces of darkness might try to gain the upper hand, there is an Upper Hand. Karen Marie Moning should-have hands thinking Truth hurts. But lies can kill. Karen Marie Moning deceit hurt lying I was in Cancun, Mexico, sitting in a disappearing-edge swimming pool, on a bar stool that was actually under the water, watching palm trees sway in a sultry breeze against the unmistakable aqua splendor of the Caribbean Sea; drinking coconut, lime, and tequila from a scooped-out pineapple, with salt spray of breaking surf and sun kissing my skin. Translation: I'd died and gone to heaven. Karen Marie Moning swimming kissing drinking Don't leave me, Rainbow Girl." Rainbow Girl. Was that who I was? It seemed so long ago. I smiled faintly. "Remember the skirt I wore to Mallucé's the night you told me to dress Goth?" "It's upstairs in your closet. Never throw it away. It looked like a wet dream on you. Karen Marie Moning girl dream night
