Favorite lines you've written

Cindyt

Gettin wiggy wit it
Super Member
Registered
Joined
Aug 14, 2016
Messages
4,826
Reaction score
1,954
Location
The Sticks
Website
growingupwolf.blogspot.com
On went the dickey skirt—wouldn’t want to feel indecent under a hundred layers of wool and linen, would I. On went the hip pads—to make my waist small enough for a man to wrap his index finger and thumb around. On went the pocket apron, the mulberry petticoat, the matching outer skirt, which Charlotte adjusted so that each half fell evenly beside the petticoat. Mimi slipped her hands through the slits in the skirt to make sure it lined up nicely with the pockets. It did. Of course. Charlotte pinned the embroidered-rose stomacher to the front of the corset and laid the white kerchief around her shoulders, tucking the ends into the the corset—just in case a nipple vaulted eight inches and poked someone’s eye out. Mimi thrust her arms through the robe’s frothy-edged sleeves. Charlotte pinned the folds to the petticoat stomacher.
 
Last edited:

relletyrots

The One Who Tells The Story
Super Member
Registered
Joined
Aug 25, 2017
Messages
198
Reaction score
39
Location
Mostly inside my own head.
Loneliness had replaced his only friend, the lack of external stimuli resulting in enhanced communication with the self. But he didn't want to ponder; he wanted to forget. He'd done an unforgivable deed, yet he was asking for forgiveness.

Don't worry, his friend forgives him in the end :)
 
Last edited:

Twick

Super Member
Registered
Joined
Oct 16, 2014
Messages
3,291
Reaction score
715
Location
Canada
Fourteen-year-old Aelfinn observes his father, his father's mistress and her husband. He's perceptive about some things, misses others entirely.

*****

Emmada the Fair approaches the throne, curtseying with smooth grace as Father takes her hand. She greets her husband, who stands beside my father, with a quick peck on his cheek then turns away. Kind of cold, considering he’s just returned from battle.

She wears a gown of cloth-of-gold, modestly cut but exquisitely tailored, which highlights every smooth curve of her body. The effect would make a man long to explore further—at least, if a man were taking notice, which I am not. My father casually puts his arm around her waist and lets it linger for a moment. She looks up at him and smiles.

How does Egil, who notices every pebble out of place, not see this? If I were him, I’d send Emmada packing to their country estate at the far end of the country. Instead, he stands there talking earnestly with my father, oblivious as my father caresses his wife’s waist.

There’s an old saying that the gods have given the stupid a blessing. Egil appears to have been greatly blessed.
 

Calder

Super Member
Registered
Joined
Jul 31, 2015
Messages
212
Reaction score
42
Location
Worcestershire, England
Website
www.thejanusgate.com
Don't know why, but I'm rather pleased with this:

"Between waitressing jobs, when the money’s getting tight, Gloria pulls shifts for Mamma Lou. It’s a question of pride, I suppose, but she finds it easier to tell people she’s a waitress than admit she’s a whore, even though, by all accounts, she’s a very good whore, whose ass has seen more traffic than a Havana taxi."
 

ancon

Super Member
Registered
Joined
Sep 27, 2017
Messages
100
Reaction score
3
I came to know that lost place like only a select few did. I was born there, a month too early on the scrubbed pine floor of a whorehouse in 1942. Ma's first sight of me was by lantern light. She said I glowed like sunrise and I was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Conceivings could naturally be expected on any given moment in Shady, but few birthings. Ma told me I came sudden and ready to meet the world on a Sunday at midnight and I wasn't about to be born in a bed where business was conducted. Especially on a Sunday. "Bad luck," she said.
 

SandyH

Banned
Joined
Sep 25, 2017
Messages
119
Reaction score
4
Website
www.amazon.com
“I will always choose a lazy person to do a difficult job. Because he will find an easy way to do it.” Bill Gates. I find the same for 'Entrepreneurs' guide to direct mail order'. Another lazy man’s way to make money at home.
 

Old Editor

Sockpuppet
Banned
Joined
Oct 13, 2017
Messages
17
Reaction score
0
From a poem about DNA, "The XX Files": Remembered dreams?-- Or very clear thoughts of now and yesteryear. But ghosts will roam my head this way, when chromosomes come out to play.
 
Last edited:

hayaku

Registered
Joined
Oct 12, 2017
Messages
45
Reaction score
7
Location
Australia
My girlfriend seems to really like this one...

Within this cartoon world, the six huddled residents were gone, and Michael realised that these avatars were probably the way that they perceived themselves, beneath all the layers of immutable physicality that perennially flowed over reality’s own surface. Only the boy was unchanged, except for those eyes—timeless, white like the nuclear fusion of a thousand suns, transcendent, willpower itself distilled and compiled, ethereal agency of an endless reality, wrought in flesh, cast down among the wretched and the desperate that humankind ultimately was.
 

Azkaellion

Banned
Joined
Oct 18, 2017
Messages
19
Reaction score
1
‘His account bore the same resemblance to reality as sawdust to a live tree.’
 
Last edited:

Eilyfe

Super Member
Registered
Joined
Oct 7, 2017
Messages
87
Reaction score
16
Don't know why, but I'm rather pleased with this:

"Between waitressing jobs, when the money’s getting tight, Gloria pulls shifts for Mamma Lou. It’s a question of pride, I suppose, but she finds it easier to tell people she’s a waitress than admit she’s a whore, even though, by all accounts, she’s a very good whore, whose ass has seen more traffic than a Havana taxi."

That one's neat. I'm on the fence about that last taxi-part. I like the comparison (rather evocative), but I also like ending the sentence at "very good whore" because it feels punchier that way.
 

insolentlad

Super Member
Registered
Joined
Oct 6, 2017
Messages
107
Reaction score
14
Location
Florida Panhandle
Website
insolentlad.com
A chapter opening from one of the novels—somewhat fond of it.

Layers of leaves, soft and smelling of earth, made no sound, left no mark, as we moved through this forest. The huge smooth trees with their buttressed roots rose like the roof posts of a great house, greater than that of any king, half-light filtering through an endless green roof above.

The buzz of the insects came as if an hundred Kohari musicians were hidden behind the trees, each playing a different tune upon the sef. There were brightly-colored birds flitting barely-seen in the high canopy, flashes of blue and gold and green, and black-and-white monkeys leaping and chattering.

Small patches of forest such as this still stood in the Mora homeland, but nothing so vast. We had walked half a day, Oorto leading me from the more open lands about Gordie’s house toward the upper Gurang.
 

catesquire

<3<3<3
Super Member
Registered
Joined
Oct 2, 2017
Messages
99
Reaction score
32
Location
US of A
A chapter opening from one of the novels—somewhat fond of it.

Layers of leaves, soft and smelling of earth, made no sound, left no mark, as we moved through this forest. The huge smooth trees with their buttressed roots rose like the roof posts of a great house, greater than that of any king, half-light filtering through an endless green roof above.

The buzz of the insects came as if an hundred Kohari musicians were hidden behind the trees, each playing a different tune upon the sef. There were brightly-colored birds flitting barely-seen in the high canopy, flashes of blue and gold and green, and black-and-white monkeys leaping and chattering.

Small patches of forest such as this still stood in the Mora homeland, but nothing so vast. We had walked half a day, Oorto leading me from the more open lands about Gordie’s house toward the upper Gurang.

Lovin' the details in that first paragraph. Very evocative. Watch the repetition of "roof", though. ;) All in all it's got a nice meandering, pretty-yet-melancholy air to it (given that this beauty is lost in the MC's homeland, it seems.) Well done.
 

Mr.Letterman

Super Member
Registered
Joined
Jan 28, 2015
Messages
140
Reaction score
12
A chapter opening from one of the novels—somewhat fond of it.

Layers of leaves, soft and smelling of earth, made no sound, left no mark, as we moved through this forest. The huge smooth trees with their buttressed roots rose like the roof posts of a great house, greater than that of any king, half-light filtering through an endless green roof above.

The buzz of the insects came as if an hundred Kohari musicians were hidden behind the trees, each playing a different tune upon the sef. There were brightly-colored birds flitting barely-seen in the high canopy, flashes of blue and gold and green, and black-and-white monkeys leaping and chattering.

Small patches of forest such as this still stood in the Mora homeland, but nothing so vast. We had walked half a day, Oorto leading me from the more open lands about Gordie’s house toward the upper Gurang.

The forest is almost tangible to me. 🙂
I have no idea what a kohari musician is, so it’s either esoteric or I am ignorant.
As mentioned above, watch your word repetition. The Green roof could be a green vault.
Just nitpicking though. Two thumbs up
 

DrDLN

Banned
Joined
Sep 13, 2017
Messages
381
Reaction score
10
Website
bit.ly
One of many. "I used to believe that prayer changes things, but prayer changes us and we change things."
 

avekevin

Super Member
Registered
Joined
Sep 8, 2017
Messages
105
Reaction score
14
Location
California, USA
"Marcus had visited few taverns during his lifetime, yet the desperation of the place struck him immediately. Drunkards leaned heavily against the bar along the far side of the smoky room, holding firmly to their ale mugs but not their dignity. Tables crowded the middle of the room, a few of which were occupied by men eating slop that somehow passed as food, but most sat unused."
 
Last edited:

tiddlywinks

Chaser of Shineyyyy Plot Bunnies
Kind Benefactor
Super Member
Registered
Joined
Jul 7, 2014
Messages
9,424
Reaction score
3,719
Location
Trying to Remember Where I Stashed My Muse
Website
www.elainewitt.com
"Marcus had visited few taverns during his lifetime, yet the desperation of the place struck him immediately. Drunkards leaned heavily against the bar along the far side of the smoky room, holding firmly to their ale mugs but not their dignity. Tables crowded the middle of the room, a few of which were occupied by men eating slop that somehow passed as food, but most sat unused."

Nice! I like the characterization I bolded especially.
 

tiddlywinks

Chaser of Shineyyyy Plot Bunnies
Kind Benefactor
Super Member
Registered
Joined
Jul 7, 2014
Messages
9,424
Reaction score
3,719
Location
Trying to Remember Where I Stashed My Muse
Website
www.elainewitt.com
One of many. "I used to believe that prayer changes things, but prayer changes us and we change things."

I like the active way in which you incorporate the concept of the spirit moving through us. Or at least that's how I read it :)
 

tiddlywinks

Chaser of Shineyyyy Plot Bunnies
Kind Benefactor
Super Member
Registered
Joined
Jul 7, 2014
Messages
9,424
Reaction score
3,719
Location
Trying to Remember Where I Stashed My Muse
Website
www.elainewitt.com
A chapter opening from one of the novels—somewhat fond of it.

Layers of leaves, soft and smelling of earth, made no sound, left no mark, as we moved through this forest. The huge smooth trees with their buttressed roots rose like the roof posts of a great house, greater than that of any king, half-light filtering through an endless green roof above.

The buzz of the insects came as if an hundred Kohari musicians were hidden behind the trees, each playing a different tune upon the sef. There were brightly-colored birds flitting barely-seen in the high canopy, flashes of blue and gold and green, and black-and-white monkeys leaping and chattering.

Small patches of forest such as this still stood in the Mora homeland, but nothing so vast. We had walked half a day, Oorto leading me from the more open lands about Gordie’s house toward the upper Gurang.

I like how you engaged multiple senses in the opening descriptions, as well as how you layered them upon each other.
 

tiddlywinks

Chaser of Shineyyyy Plot Bunnies
Kind Benefactor
Super Member
Registered
Joined
Jul 7, 2014
Messages
9,424
Reaction score
3,719
Location
Trying to Remember Where I Stashed My Muse
Website
www.elainewitt.com
Also, just a general note for folks who are newer to this thread. It's been a little while since I've been back in here, but I noticed something during my backreading that I hadn't seen in a while.

Sharing compliments and how someone's favorite line made you feel / see something in a new light / or just gave you the chills on the writing is fabulous. Just resist the urge to crit or nitpick :) This isn't a crit thread -- more like a spot to go when you want to share something you think is awesomesauce and get all the good feels from your fellow writers.

Shutting up now and spreading good sparkly vibes in the hopes of seeing more favorite lines. I always love reading this thread!
 
Last edited:

Alessandra Kelley

Sophipygian
Staff member
Moderator
Super Member
Registered
Joined
Mar 27, 2011
Messages
16,874
Reaction score
5,189
Location
Near the gargoyles
Website
www.alessandrakelley.com
So. Um.

I’ve been on these forums for years, not as a writer but as a visual artist married to a writer. From the start I made it clear I was a friend and fellow traveler but Not A Writer myself.

Except ... now I find I am putting together some things which started as backstory for some game characters and may become graphic novel material later but right now look an awful lot like writing.

I have been reading this thread from the start and am presently about halfway through it. The sheer creativity and talent collected here is humbling.

So, here is some of what I’ve written that doesn’t seem entirely awful.

The MC is a vampire on a rescue mission which has gone badly wrong.

She lifted her head and stroked the hair off his slack, beautiful face, relaxed in the aftereffects of a completed feeding.

She could let him be dead now. His soul was saved, and the family’s secrets. It was by far the easiest course. His people would understand and forgive this far more than -

She sighed and shifted upright on the settee, pulling him into her lap.

Time was short. She clutched the back of his head, sliced open a vein in her left wrist with her teeth, and pressed the wound to his mouth. It hurt, but she had had worse.

When enough of her blood had slipped down his throat she pulled her wrist away and kissed it clean.

Rokhsana laid the body across the settee and kissed his eyelids. She drifted on silent feet to the sink, pulled off her stained shirt and wiped the blood off her face and torso. She found spare linen shirts in the laundry cupboard and pulled one over her head, tucking it into the men’s trousers she wore. One by one she picked up the discarded garments and pulled and buttoned them on, moving with exaggerated care. Lastly she wound her hair back into something like a knot and tied the silk bag around it.

When she was dressed for the road again, all but gloves, she picked up the boy’s body and held it in her lap. She did not move for some time.

She did not pray. She did not consider it respectful.
 

Alessandra Kelley

Sophipygian
Staff member
Moderator
Super Member
Registered
Joined
Mar 27, 2011
Messages
16,874
Reaction score
5,189
Location
Near the gargoyles
Website
www.alessandrakelley.com
Thank you for the encouragement. This is still very new to me. :eek:

This is earlier. For some background, the story is set near Kolkata in 1811, in a hidden base of a sect of mages who are playing with technology a century ahead of its time.

I feel it’s rather rough, but I am enjoying developing these ideas.

The soldier Harry eased towards the wall of the rat room, then slapped his hand over one of the little skull-buttons. He danced with triumph and rage.

“Hah! Rum Johnny!” he cried, muffled behind the sealed mica window of his green helm, the one with his name on it. “Thought you could fool me! Well, take a breath of that, hah! Take a breath of that!”

Rokhsana stared at the man blankly. With shrill cheeps the rats nearest the ceiling threw themselves frantically against the wires of their cages. Then the ones below them followed suit in a frenzied chorus step by step to the floor. The air smelled peculiar and faintly sweet. After a moment she made sense of the situation. A subtle and unseen atmosphere had come rolling out of the mysterious grills on the ceiling and was laying the little beasts out in waves.

“You poison your air?” she said, incredulous, as the rats foamed and dribbled and convulsed in their cages.

She turned her eyes to the ceiling grates. They had been in every room she had seen, and at every hall junction. Those little skull-buttons were by every door.

This building was threaded with invisible death.

The soldier Harry had noticed something awry. “Here,” he said doubtfully, his step hesitating, “How come you ain’t dying?”

She reached out almost tenderly and crushed the buckles on his helm, pulling it roughly off.

She watched impassively.

Less than a minute later she judged he was past saving. Five minutes after that she snapped his neck, though whether out of mercy or impatience she could not say.
 
Last edited: