Share your favorite line so far!

This one's simple, but I love it.

Quote:Roger pressed his lips together and shook his head. Youre stupid, Holden.

Holden smiled weakly. I know.

New favorite!


For the first time in years, she thought about sewing or embroidering something. If she had known when she was little how difficult, dull, and discouraging it was to do anything with a needle and thread, she never would have suggested it as something to be taught at every orphanage in Tremain. She had hated her own needlework lessons. Her thread always tangled, she always stabbed herself with the needle, and her stitches had always been huge and uneven. It was a good thing she was a princess, because she never would have been able to make her own clothes. The fact that she was even considering doing any sort of needlework now had to be a sign that she was going mad. Or were insane ideas and urges a normal part of the grieving process? She would have to ask Rafferty about that.

New favourite too :)

"You're divorced with two teenage kids and your girlfriend is an ancient Greek Goddess with a penchant for vengeance and shooting fluffy animals. I would think that would require some social adjustment on your part. It's not exactly what they expect at the Country Club supper."

I'm not sure if this completely replaces my last favourite line... but I agree with this one lots. And the only other one I remember that I like is a whole paragraph. xD So I'll post this one up.


"For all he cared, he could spend his time thinking about why algebra wasn't a reasonable topic to teach kids in school and why it should be replaced by proper firearm handling classes instead."


Who's with me (and William)?

I now have a few favorite line.

You should not disrespect me. Craig said. I have only gotten more powerful since we last met.

Smell is not everything. Kevin replied.

Thank goodness for this thread. I love that feeling when I get SO excited about something I just wrote that I just HAVE TO SHARE IT NOW. "New favorite" is... possibly an understatement.



King Winford's chair stood empty at the head of the dinner table, silently bellowing a painful truth about the present state of Tremain. Like that tall dark chair, everything in the dining hall seemed to hold its breath, glowering at its royal occupants for the incompetence of their lingering indecision. Even Princess Delwen and Prince Elgan, who came from Lachlan and had nothing to do with this kingdom, were not immune to the weight of the castle's silent glare.

I'm writing a horror novel (sort of) so anything I post here is bound to be a tad...unsettling. :p

Yesterday I wrote a scene with a sadistic psychiatrist who presides over a mental asylum. He just drugged the MC to probe his mind a bit. The following bit comes just after the protagonist wakes up, with the doctor describing a patient of his:

------

One woman thought she had spiders crawling all over her. Day and night, night and day, the spiders are all over me, she said. They burst from her eyes and ears and mouth and nostrils, I suppose is what she thought, and marched over her flesh in some inexorable and unknown migration that began and ended with her. This is a rather narcissistic delusion you have, I told Marjorieher name was Marjorie. Spiders would almost certainly grow bored of you. Everyone else has grown bored of you. Im bored of you. What a depressing view of life I would have if I thought that all the answers were hidden in the minute details of your skin, as these spiders must think, else they would crawl to some other more exciting place. But still she felt them, needlepoint legs jabbing her pores, never giving me any peace about it. The man leaned forward. I tell you, I didnt sleep a wink those four months. Her voice was always in my head. Spiders, spiders, spiders. It was enough to drive a man mad.

Haley tested the extent of his mobility, trying not to move unnecessarily. He didnt want to tip the man off that he was trying to escape. He might get another syringe for that. Best to pretend at least to be listening.

Eventually, Wexell continued, eyes distant as though he had slipped away from his present surroundings, she jumped out the window. We had a clock tower; that was where she jumped from. She fell maybe a hundred feet. Thud. It was night. She landed in a patch of shrubbery and it swallowed her up like an animal. We didnt know where shed got to for some few days. It wasnt until the gardener trimmed the hedges that we learned shed done herself in. Andyoull never guess. The mans eyes bulged and his mouth curved into a smile that threatened to unzip his lower jaw. His voice cracked with jovial restraint, suppressing a laugh at the jolly tidbit about to unfurl from his manic tongue. You just never will guess what we saw when the gardener moved the branch aside for us and we looked upon her broken body. Her skin was crawling, positively crawling, withspiders. He laughed and his eyes caught the moonlight and became filled with it like vials of blazing white homicidal champagne.

... Since I can't help but shamelessly posting again... I'm posting again!


Though, given that all of the men around were Russian, he wasn't sure he would trust them to make his food. That, and their ability to make anything other than stroganov and a glass of vodka was likely in question.

New POV character added to the mix, and a new favorite line. XD

Quote:I love you, mum, he mumbled, and once more, tears streamed down her face.

I love you too, baby, she whispered. And, as she closed her eyes to wait for sleep that she knew would once again prove slippery and elusive, she did her best to tune out the soft gurgle and rattle of her sons breathing. But all it did was echo louder and louder in her ears.

From the end of today's 'nightmare sequence' writing:

"My broken angel was dead, and I could hear Tillman laughing maniacally. "

Dunno why, just really liked that one.

Hildur shrugged as she put her glove back on and proceeded to take off the other glove and examine the nails on that hand. Well, perhaps. But theres no sense in going overboard with such things. When you get to be Papa and Mamas age, being trim will be nothing more than a memory, Im sure. And you can rest assured that a man who wants his wife keeping trim is not the man for me. I want a man who can afford the finer things in life, and such men tend to view plump women as a sign of prosperity. A skinny wife would be positively scandalous for them, I rather imagine.

And yet another new one!

Quote:Her desire to find medicine for Louis in the city, and the expectation of escaping the mass deaths were gone like a fleeting dream, and she was left standing there in front of this poor clerk like a helpless child, grasping desperately for those last threads of hope.

Three lines, but they're part of my favorite conversation (so far) between my FMC and her sort-of love interest.

Quote:The desert is not a place for shadows. I sometimes think they are so restless because they resent falling here, or perhaps because they do not quite know how.
You speak of them as though they are alive.
You speak of them as though they are not."

Quote:
I meant don't let another department know your inside information. If we play this close to our vests, we can snap up extra funding for next year. Get there as quickly as possible. Spare no expense.

Really?

Well, no, Ben said. But I've always wanted to say that.

It seemed like a strange time for her boss to be developing a sense of humor, but perhaps humor was the fad for management this year.

I wrote this during a word war yesterday, and I think it's probably the wrong characters saying these lines. But I can't get it out of my mind.
Oh, and it's more than a line long...but here goes:

Quote:How long have you been waiting? she calls. Hopefully not too long?
Teragus leans back against the tree, and discovers that the tunic he has purchased has pockets and that he has picked a flower along the way.
I brought this for you. There are not many of these around.
She puzzles over this. Its a dandelion. A weed. Theyre everywhere.
What is a weed? he asks.
You know, something other than what you planted in your garden. Nevertheless she keeps it in her hand, letting the milk soak in between her fingers.
He takes the milk soaked hand in his and they walk into the meadow, where he plans to say sweet things into her ear, the way he has read in the neglected book by Jane Austen.
(Insert quote here)
She looks at him in surprise. Youve read Jane Austen?
Just last night, actually he had, but he doesnt admit it. It is a classic of literature. Who wouldnt have read such a fine work?
My contention exactly, she said, and led the way into the meadow. The grass brushed up against her skirt leaving green marks on the white linen. She didnt seem to notice, as the wind blew her short dark hair about her chin. If we forget our past we will have no future.
They sat down, and she stared into his eyes. He knew she was going to ask him the question he didnt want to answer. Where was he from and why was he here? Can anyone truly answer that question? Are we not merely dandelions in the wind? Wherever the seeds might land is where we must grow, even if we are considered a weed in the garden of Eden.

The small hillock known as Jilrirs Reach was the only raised ground for miles around. Two small and apparently insignificant figures that stood at its crest stared out into the blood red sky.

You know Bree, even with all that has happened you have to admire the beauty of that sunset. Rachael Abigail Maine pushed her small round spectacles up her nose and smiled as she breathed in the fresh air.

Breanna Louise Maine glanced at her shorter yet older sister and shook her head in despair, Thats the city of Jilrir burning you twat. They are razing it to the ground like they did with Cinnabar and Malint.

The smile faded from Rachaels thin dry lips, oh! she replied feebly.

Not really a line, seeing as it's two paragraphs, but I love this bit.

Quote:For what felt like years, she stared down at the familiar face that, in death, seemed like that of a stranger. There was tension frozen in the lines of his forehead and between his eyes, so totally unlike the bright, open happiness she was so used to seeing, even when Teddy was feeling miserable. Until that very moment, she had never seen him look so defeated, so unhappy, and she couldnt help but wonder if she had really known him at all. Maybe this was what he had been like behind the privacy of his own closed door. Maybe the Teddy she had known had been a facade for Louis. Maybe it had been a facade for her. Now she would never know one way or the other.

She finally tore her eyes from his face and turned to the closet to pull down another blanket. She shook it out and draped it over him. With every last ounce of resolve she had left, she very gently settled her fingertips on his eyelids and pushed them shut. And, with a shiver that rocked her to her very core, she let go of the edge of the blanket and let it fall over his face.

Hildurs tears dried in an instant, and she stomped her foot in disgust. Oh, you Harda! Youre spoiling my plans! Is it really so great a thing to ask that you let me be in peace to meet my beau, and for goodness sake keep it under your hat?

Harda shook her head. Im not going to say anything to Papa or Uncle or anybody. But if you want me to keep this secret, youll have to come home with me. Otherwise, I will tell.

Oh! Hildur snapped as she stormed off the bridge, leaving Harda to catch up to her. Blackmail wasnt pretty, but it was effective. The two crossed back over the river and headed home in silence.

New fave:

Quote:We havent had school in a week, mom. They closed it down. Too many students and too many teachers He took in a shuddering breath. Too many people died.

New fave. >->

Quote:But I remember them. Thats how I do it. I remember them, and its a way of keeping them alive. I remember their stories and their lives. Thats all anyone ever wants, right? To be remembered? To not worry that, when they die, theyll simply cease to exist and the world will not even know that they were there at all? I know thats what terrifies me. Its like being invisible. Youre standing there, screaming at the world, Im here! I matter! But in the end, you realize that all that time you spent screaming, you had no voice and nobody heard.