Shelly

“Am I being persecuted?” He smiles faintly. “If only it were that personal. Life fucks you anonymously. It doesn’t want to know your name, doesn’t give a shit about your station. The terrain never stops shifting. One minute you think you’ve got the world by the balls, the next minute you don’t know where the fuck the world’s balls are.”
― Karen Marie Moning, Burned

“In fishing for information, one might advocate the use of interrogatories."
Ryodan laughs. "Ah, Dani, there you are. You can run, but you can't hide."
"If by that you mean that this Dani person to whom you so erroneously and tediously refer also remarked upon your deliberate omission of proper punctuation as a psychological tactic intended to subtle coerce, the logical conclusion is that multiple women find your methods transparent.”
― Karen Marie Moning, Burned

“Life fucks you anonymously. It doesn't want to know your name, doesn't give a shit about your station. The terrain never stops shifting. One minute you think you've got the world by the balls, the next minute you don't know where the fuck the world's balls are.”
― Karen Marie Moning, Burned

“At least I died trying. And I won. I never gave them away. I never hurt them. I did my best to find them. I tried to keep my promise... I die for them.
I counted nineteen steps before I could respond. Nineteen sluggish, futile crunches across the sand.
"Then what am I dying for?" I wondered, the pricking feeling returning in my desiccated tear ducts. "I guess it's because I lost, then, right? Is that why?"
I counted thirty-four crunches before she had an answer to my question.
No, she thought slowly. It doesn't feel that way to me. I think... Well, I think that maybe... you're dying to be human. There was almost a smile in her thought as she heard the silly double meaning to the phrase. After all the planets and all the hosts you've left behind, you've finally found the place and the body you'd die for. I think you've found your home, Wanderer.”
― Stephenie Meyer, The Host