Carnes Quotes & Sayings

Addiction is a relationship, a pathological relationship in which ... obsession replaces people. — Patrick Carnes

After all, you are a hero and everything. — V.S. Carnes

Anger swirled in him, a tempest readying her strike. And like a helpless vessel caught in her fury, he felt himself dashed against the rocks without mercy. — V.S. Carnes

I know I am flaky, I accept that - and I know, as well, that I can mangle the good king's English like no one else in my or the next ten governesses' acquaintances, but that will not prevent me from speaking! I may not be as wise as you in the ways of the world, I may not have wounds that run as deeply or scars to wear upon my chest like medals of valor, but at least I don't retreat and hide the moment a soul comes within reach of my fingers! — V.S. Carnes

She might not bring much gold from a fat pasha locally, but there are men in Israel who would pay handsomely for her safety. Even kill for it."
"And die for it?" Though he tilted his head in intrigue, he could not read Caine's expression. "What about here?" he asked softly, searching his features. "Any of those men here? — V.S. Carnes

Acting? No, it is not for me. I would be terrible. — Kim Carnes

She thought she loved him. She was crazy. — V.S. Carnes

Bette Davis lived long enough to hear the Kim Carnes song, 'Bette Davis Eyes'. The lyrics to that song were not very interesting. But the fact of the song was the proof of an acknowledgement that in the twentieth century we lived through an age of immense romantic personalities larger than life, yet models for it, too - for good or ill. Like twin moons, promising a struggle and an embrace, the Davis eyes would survive her - and us. Kim Carnes has hardly had a consistent career, but that one song - sluggish yet surging, druggy and dreamy - became an instant classic. It's like the sigh of the islanders when they behold their Kong. And I suspect it made the real eyes smile, whatever else was on their mind. — David Thomson

I will not marry Ashton. However bound by honor to do so, I will not marry Ashton. I will not marry, ever!"
"Why not?"
"Because I love you, you idiot! — V.S. Carnes

The blood dried on his good hand, he passed his palm over her hair. It curled about his wrist and sprung back into displace as the breeze fluttered by. In the firelight, it was golden like the dandelions of which she'd spoken. The ones that had grown along the Franklin riverbank in late summer. The ones he had lost any faith in since he'd committed his first murder there. — V.S. Carnes

He heard the voice that had called to him in dreams, had saved him from the sands and from following his brother into the river. — V.S. Carnes

I love to write, to sing, to make music. Not to act: I am horrible. — Kim Carnes

She accepted it uncertainly. "This will help?" Without waiting for an answer, with that unsettling trust of hers, she popped open the lid and dug in her finger, smearing the slick substance on and around her mouth. Going outside of the lines, as he deduced she did with most everything in her life. When she was done, she looked absolutely ridiculous.
Caine barely resisted smiling at her. "It will help immensely. — V.S. Carnes

He smelled the salt on his own lips and the orange blossoms in her hair. Real ones, he could see now, tucked into the curls with cheap, native combs. The sight of them gave him hope. — V.S. Carnes

They were literally inches from being buried alive in this place, millions of miles from home or any sort of civilization, where they would never be found or mourned ... and Caine continued to smile.
Sweet heavens, he was completely out of his mind! — V.S. Carnes

Just say, dakhilak."
Without hesitation, "Dakhilak."
He nodded. Her accent was getting no better. "Now, you can never take it back."
"Well, what does it mean? Thank you?"
She should have asked sooner. He didn't turn to meet the gaze he felt on him, his voice full of sand, his stomach sick. "It gives me charge of your life. — V.S. Carnes

Better this way, what remained of his battered sensibilities told him. He was no good for her, anyway. She didn't understand him. She didn't understand that he was cursed. And, selfish as he was, he'd rather she hate him than he hate himself any more than he was already going to. Any more than he already did. — V.S. Carnes

There will always be another war, Gillia." He allowed his cynicism to seep through. "Do you know why? Because there will always be bigots and cowards and power-mad devils in positions of omnipotence. Look around you. There has been war here since time began. It's nature. Animals kill each other for survival, for territory ... and for the taste of blood in their mouths. Man is no different. — V.S. Carnes

And what was to become of what he had taken from her? He had dashed her heart to the ground and danced on it with combat boots. Did he sit in that seditious palace day after day and not even bother to scrape it off of his soles with a passing thought of her? — V.S. Carnes

In a land that knew only dark beauty, she was something of a hybrid no one dared touch. But the tall Arab did not appear in the least daunted by her abnormality. No, she saw his eyes. He was not daunted in the least. — V.S. Carnes

By the nineteenth century, society had given up burning witches. Yet the sexual exploitation of children continued. In late-nineteenth-century Britain, for example, men who raped young girls were excused because they did it to cure venereal disease. There was a widely held belief that children would take "poisons" out of the body. In fact, leprosy, venereal disease, depression, and impotence were part of a wide range of maladies believed cured by having sex with the young. An English medical text of the time reads, "Breaking a maiden's seal is one of the best antidotes for one's ills. Cudgeling her unceasingly, until she swoons away, is a mighty remedy for man's depression. It cures all impotence. — Patrick J. Carnes

Kas was right: a woman could destroy a man. This one could do so, simply by knowing his name. She could do so, simply with her eyes. — V.S. Carnes

In the 1980s, research on post traumatic stress disorder in Vietnam veterans was regarded as important, noble, and useful. When the same researchers looked at the same problem in children who had been sexually abused, a tremendous controversy ensued a controversy that persists to this day. There were those who disputed the extent and severity of the sexual abuse that had been uncovered. — Patrick J. Carnes

Instead, I pull out my wallet and hand Mrs. Carnes a twenty, which is the smallest I have, and she counts off the books. — Jennifer Niven

He watched her for her reaction, or possibly watched her just to watch, his eyes hooded by his lashes and his mouth impassive. A faceless man - such as the one she had dreamed of since she was a child - his identity not obscured by mist or flying sand or swirling dust, but by a mask he readily employed whenever he wished. As a shutter closed against a gale. Closed against her, no matter the impact of his words. He seemed to speak them against his will, just as he seemed to care for her against his will. — V.S. Carnes

Because you have my heart, Virgilia Wessex." Softly, almost achingly. "Every black ounce of it. Scars and all. — V.S. Carnes

Nashville has a great creative atmosphere. It's a small, close-knit music community that you can't find anywhere else. — Kim Carnes

My name, sir, is Virgilia Wessex. I am a Sunday school teacher from Sussex, England, and I have given you no leave to address me as anything."
His mouth seemed to almost smile, but if so, he caught it just on the brink and decided against it. "Well, I've just given the gent who found you first an obscene amount of money to address you however I please ... Gillia. — V.S. Carnes

Somehow, I did not finger you for a treasure-hunter."
"Oh, but I am," without shame. "Her name is Titianni Aziz. — V.S. Carnes

Caine might have smiled at her, had his heart not been breaking to smithereens inside of him. — V.S. Carnes

Hope you're pleased with the crumbs she throws you. — Kim Carnes

I've crossed a world of sand and tears in search of you. — V.S. Carnes

Abandonment is at the core of addictions. Abandonment causes deep shame. Abandonment by betrayal is worse than mindless neglect. Betrayal is purposeful and self-serving. If severe enough, it is traumatic. What moves betrayal into the realm of trauma is fear and terror. If the wound is deep enough, and the terror big enough, your bodily systems shift to an alarm state. You never feel safe. You're always on full-alert, just waiting for the hurt to begin again. In that state of readiness, you're unaware that part of you has died. You are grieving. Like everyone who has loss, you have shock and disbelief, fear, loneliness and sadness. Yet you are unaware of these feelings because your guard is up. In your readiness, you abandon yourself. Yes, another abandonment. — Patrick J. Carnes

Don't Fall in Love with a Dreamer — Kim Carnes

I remember every good thing about you. Every sweet and perfect thing. And nothing else." He touched her chin, tipped it up to look into her wet brown eyes. Even smudged, they were gorgeous. The dawning light in them filled his heart, and healed it. "Nothing else. — V.S. Carnes

This man was no servant. She looked up at him in acute agitation and knew: this man was now her master. — V.S. Carnes

He had always prided himself on his ability to bargain, to bluff, to contain his ever-aching heart within the folds of his robes where no one could see his pain and his shame. Unconsciously, he reached up and fisted the little black pearl in his fingers, searching for words, praying to the Almighty for the words that would let him have her. But they would not come.
They were not needed, when the truth was in his eyes. — V.S. Carnes

It was a question of insurmountable proportions. A single word that held every fear he had ever had-and every wish he had ever made on those cursed stars. She needn't say more. In a single syllable, she had said more than he wanted to hear in an entire lifetime. — V.S. Carnes

She was an extension of his dreams. A sprinkling of magic dust, of unfeasible wishes, on his stable existence. The one thing-the one bright, marvelous thing-he wanted more than the world, but didn't deserve. However much he was tortured for her sake, however much blood he had spilled to protect her, the bruises to his body and the thrashings to his sanity, it would never be enough to make a wretch like him worthy of such a miracle. — V.S. Carnes

Therefore, she hummed the provincial lullaby she had learned from the officers' children in the English Quarter of Jerusalem, and watched in fascination while the savage radical's eyes misted over with tears. For an instant, the prison bars melted away, and she felt God's presence - for the first time since their imprisonment. She was not a captive, and this man was not her captor. Indeed, they were both merely God's children. — V.S. Carnes

Wait for me."
If his voice was just a bit hoarse, she didn't seem to take note of it. She looked at him as though he had reached over and slapped her. "You don't trust me? After all that talk of taking me for my word - "
"This isn't about trust."
"That is precisely what this is about." Her fingers fisted in her skirts. "Because I've trusted you."
It hurt him to hear it. He didn't know what else to do. He had no contacts left. He was walking around now like a blind man. He didn't need the added weight of her safety on his conscience.
Caine's eyes fell away again. "Maybe you shouldn't."
That earned him a flustered: "You told me to! — V.S. Carnes

He wanted to die. He prayed for it. Through the roar in his ears, he begged for it. — V.S. Carnes

She'd said she loved him. She'd put that impossible, unimaginably beautiful gift in his hands and he'd thrown it back at her. To save her. To save himself. — V.S. Carnes

Many contemporary critics of higher education similarly posit a Golden Age; but no one knows when it was supposed to exist. — Mark C. Carnes

However, sexual anorexics do have a definite profile that separates them from the larger population of those having difficulty being sexual: They are often extremely competent people who are committed to doing things very well and have a fear of making mistakes and being human. — Patrick J. Carnes

By now, she was far from the scorch of these sands. After the ransom deal, she would be safely married in England. To Ashton. And Caine, who had hurt her far more than anything Abdullah had planned for her with that long, curved dagger, deserved no better than this torment of knowing it. — V.S. Carnes

No fairy tale, this. This was by no stretch of the imagination a polished fantasy. This was a searing, living force, rough around the edges, unfamiliar and bittersweet.
And precious. — V.S. Carnes

It came as naturally to him as breathing or lying, or worse. His mama had only taught her son to be cautious at all times. Garnette was more than that. Much, much more than that. — V.S. Carnes

Kent had begun sleeping with his good eye open, for he knew the mark of sedition when he saw it. Even partway blinded, who could see it better? — V.S. Carnes

He'd thought it would be the right thing to say, but she scoffed a little ... and that, more than anything - more than the prospect of having his ribs crushed in or his face pulled off or his neck stretched on a rope - scared him out of his wits. — V.S. Carnes

Kent steepled his fingers in consideration. Blood-red rubies flashed in the sunlight, like the eyes of a demon clutched in his hands. — V.S. Carnes

What she knew was sand and wind and innumerable stars. The rumble in a camel's throat as it swayed over shifting dunes, its trappings jingling in time with its steps beneath her. She knew the sting of thirst and the taste of dried fruit, the glare of sun and the frigid, bone-numbing cold of the air when the sun gave her throne over to the moon. She knew that, to survive, one must often revise one's caliber, and one must completely depend upon Jesus Christ. — V.S. Carnes

I write from what's in my heart. I write what I love and have always done that. — Kim Carnes

When silence greeted her question, she looked at Caine - for that was how he saw himself in that moment and in all the moments after: his brother's murderer. — V.S. Carnes

He felt, rather than saw, her chin lift toward him. But instead of pulling her hand from his grip and turning away, she tightened her own fingers and unceremoniously, unexpectedly, threw herself down the incline, dragging him with her.
Dragging him with her! — V.S. Carnes

There are still many souls to be won for Christ," she answered with quiet dignity, eyes downcast - but not, he figured, in humility. "Even here. Perhaps, especially here. Where better to spread his love, than a country just recently ravaged by war?"
"Where better to be kidnapped and sold into slavery, than a country just recently ravaged by war?" with a discernible sneer. — V.S. Carnes

The calf scramble will be during both rodeo performances and consist of children attempting to catch and halter several loose calves. If a child succeeds, he or she will receive a certificate to purchase a breeding animal to raise and bring back to the livestock show next year. — Kim Carnes

The horizon was indistinguishable from the inky black, which fell upon the desert like a sorcerer's mantle shot through with diamonds. The stars were so tiny, so far away, and yet, at the moment, with her fingers curled around his, he almost felt as though he could reach up and snag one by the tail. — V.S. Carnes

Looking back at him was a man who was battered and broken.
And alive, for the first time in his life. — V.S. Carnes

We are so used to our own history, we do not see it as remarkable or out of the ordinary, whereas others might see it as horrendous. Further, we tend to minimize that which we feel shameful about. — Patrick J. Carnes

Are you in the habit of taking tea with anyone who approaches you in a foreign port?" He went on and snorted carelessly. "No wonder you were abducted so easily. — V.S. Carnes

He squinted at her. He recalled the tears in her eyes that had not fallen into her teacup. No, it wasn't a revelation. Not even to him. Yet, this was the same woman who had stolen a camel right out from under the Anti-Zionist army's nose. She'd taken his hand, thrown herself down a sand dune on a dare, and then beaten him back up it. She'd glared at him and refused to part from his side. A coward?
"Never," he said again. — V.S. Carnes

Fate had a cruel sense of humor. It had been all his fault, anyway, whatever Mick or Gillia told him. Careless preoccupation and utter stupidity. Boyhood ignorance and negligence. He was only getting what he deserved, over and over again, for the rest of his life. If only in his dreams. — V.S. Carnes

She wondered how a man could look into a woman's eyes and lie so completely, so convincingly. She wondered how he could have looked and not seen the love that had glowed there, the blind faith, the unconditional devotion. She wondered how he would sleep at night, knowing he had betrayed her so effortlessly. — V.S. Carnes

Southern gentleman," he said aside to him in Arabic. "Do you wish for me to continue this for you?"
Caine's temper shifted to a low simmer in his chest. "Your way takes too long."
"Ma'aleyk, and your way hurts my ears," he argued. — V.S. Carnes

Caine was a murderer. A liar. A cad. A skulker in shadows and a heartless wretch. What sort of woman or God would love someone like him? — V.S. Carnes

His head snapped sharply aside to collide with his own aching shoulder. The hulking brute he had heard referred to as Abdullah leaned into Caine's face while his brain was yet reeling, flexing his fingers from the punch just dealt to his jaw, and said in Arabic, I did not know English women were so strong. — V.S. Carnes

Caine usually woke from the recurring dream mid-air, having yet to be dashed upon the rocks, whimpering and panting like a child crying for his mother. Now he lifted his eyes to a dark, empty room in Jizan and the unusual, lingering scent of roses, and wept in his hands for his Father. — V.S. Carnes

Patrick Carnes wrote an apt description of the addict's behavior: "The addict substitutes a sick relationship to an event or a process for a healthy relationship with others. The addict's relationship with a mood-altering experience becomes central to his life" (Carnes 2001, 14). — George Collins

The European public has always been great to me. — Kim Carnes

I'll be here where the heart is — Kim Carnes

By the Middles Ages it was a sin to have sex with a child. If an adult were guilty of such a sin, one remedy was to declare the child a witch. The child thus became an offender who "beguiled" the adult with the power of the Evil One.
Understanding this process puts a new light on the burning of witches. A Catholic bishop in Wurttemberg in the seventeenth century writes, for example, of his sadness at having presided over the burning of three hundred young girls that year and of his wonder if the church were making a mistake. — Patrick J. Carnes

I stole you, among others, from the streets of God's birthplace. I forced you to work as a slave. Imprisoned, mistreated and starved you and your companion. To top it off, I am in the process of selling your life to the highest bidder. Why would you trust me? — V.S. Carnes

La mu'axsa, but I think I'll just keep sliding down this greased pole to hell? — V.S. Carnes

Remind me to thank God I don't have a sister."
Caine eyed him critically. He was a filthy heap of blood and soot and sand stuck to the gun oil on his face. "Yeah," without much enthusiasm. "I'll thank Him for ya. — V.S. Carnes

Oh, Lord, why was she doomed to adore a man steeped in blindness and utter stupidity? — V.S. Carnes

Care for her. He was unworthy of such a gift. Unworthy of her blind trust and her sparkling, slightly crooked smiles, let alone her heart. But he wanted her, selfish fool he was and had always been. Care for her? Ah, God, she consumed him. — V.S. Carnes

A hand stole around her mouth, silencing her, then his lips parting her tumbled hair: "The walls have ears."
She blinked, and for the first time, looked around. A thin beam of light beneath what may have been a door. That was all. When he released her, she endeavored to match his own, barely audible tone. "Do the walls understand English? — V.S. Carnes

He didn't deserve compassion. Sympathy. Not even understanding. He deserved worse, far worse than he had ever been given. — V.S. Carnes

She was a little thing, too, inciting that basic compulsion in him as a man to protect her in so hectic a place as post-war Israel. Even so, his actions were borne out of an entirely different instinct, altogether: to fool her and anyone within a dart's range ... to protect himself. — V.S. Carnes

... deceitful!" she decided with a little bounce of fury that briefly ballooned the silk of her trousers. "There! You deceitful ... "
"Gillia ... "
" ... misleading, dishonest, insincere ... "
"Those are all the same words, Gill - "
"Ooh! Liar!"
She'd managed to get her hands on a small pillow. He ducked just as it whizzed past him. In justice, however, it did strike the mosaic vase behind him on an engraved mahogany pedestal, and it tipped and spun on its base before landing in a shattered heap on the bare floor.
"Now, look what you've done!" she accused tearfully and bolted from the room. — V.S. Carnes

I was gonna write songs, I was gonna be a star and a singer and I never thought of doing anything else. — Kim Carnes