Favorite lines from your own writing

"As he slept that night, his net worth increased by 103.95GBP (+/- 15.499GBP) and 5040SNL - a friend of a friend had gone viral, and looked to stay that way."

"Man cannot live on hate-sex alone."

"If I can feed the Latvian consul a marijuana brownie, I can get one little millionaire talking no problem."

He loved his country and he respected its laws, but none of that made him love her any less. The prospect of life on the run had plagued him for the past month, but no matter how dreadful it was, he always went back to the same question; was he simply not going to rescue her?

It was nearly time. As he felt snow land on his coat collar, another rush of memories came back to him. Belgium in January of '45, the night before the planned breakout. Jim was leaning against a tree trunk, puking his guts out and muttering every curse in the book, while Tac was franticly reading the bible, in French, despite not understanding a word of it. He himself felt calm at the time, without tension or anticipation. Sort of timeless. Now he was feeling the same way again. He felt good, like himself. He felt ready.

edited 5th Apr '12 3:56:35 PM by DoktorFylthe

A hand grabbed Dee, hauling her back. "I know it's a cliche, but really it's true this time. Come with me if you want to live."

Dee looked at the man with a confused expression. "What?"

He shrugged. "Would you prefer 'My name's Luke Skywalker, I'm here to rescue you'?"

We are at war with the Resistance. We will always be at war with the Resistance, perpetually edging closer to a victory that will never come to pass, locked in endless combat against a phantom enemy. With every bomb that goes off, every politician killed, more and more people will line up to sell their freedom to the only thing standing between them and partisan anarchy - me. I will give the people exactly what they want - freedom from freedom. And as I tighten my grip, those who would oppose me will be left with fewer options until they join the only remaining venue for dissent - and in doing so, make themselves even more perfect servants. It's all an enormous machine, you see. And I really should be thanking you - after all, you were nice enough to assemble it for me.

Okay, here's one with rough language that is enhanced by context, as promised.

The context: Carina has just made a pass at Kylie, and been rebuffed.

Carina: Alas, 'tis a pity I won't be enjoying your company in my bedchamber. But you will still have your uses. Oh, yes, the Dark Lord is very interested in you.

Kylie: Oh yeah? Well, I don't want to fuck him either.

Heh, that's actually pretty clever.

Here's something that isn't really a line, but instead a chapter thing. To give some context, each chapter has a number, a title, and a time period to go along with it. When time starts going wonky...

E I G H T E E N
The Time Spell
July 6th, 2015 – 9am (Probably)

edited 6th Apr '12 2:07:43 PM by Collen

Update, expansion, and clarification of the above: It's the Darkest Hour for the good guys. Most of them are dead, and the only known survivor has been captured pending a public execution. Before they are taken out to be killed, the Big Bad confronts them in their cell. Especially in context of what happened during The Reveal and everything else we know about this character, I find this genuinely chilling:

edited 6th Apr '12 10:18:05 PM by KyleJacobs

Some of it's a bit too obviously a shout out to things like 1984 (We were always at war with Eurasia), but it's good. Except maybe an idiot ball, because Nicole could just yell that during her execution which might, just might put a spanner in the works. I guess it depends on what your villain is like, though.

Reminds me of Palpatine.

You're the second person today who's told me that. Honestly, I was trying to write this guy as the bastard child of Josef Stalin and Iago - Palpatine never crossed my mind, and it took browsing around the Star Wars page for a bit before I even remembered what he'd done in the prequels.

Well, that was sort of the point of the line, but I might remove the "We are at war with the Resistance" bit. That said, the perpetual conflict thing is the entire point. Good point about the Villain Ball, though - I may have him take care of that possibility. Or attempt to, anyway - the circumstances surrounding the speech are very much subject to change right now.

edited 6th Apr '12 3:49:07 PM by KyleJacobs

"I swear to drugs I'm not on God"

Goddamn Jorgez was fun to write.

“Kill the other two,” Pavel said cheerfully. There was no shock on their faces, he noted, only resignation. He could admire dedication in a person, no matter how foolish he found their cause. He turned to the final man and smiled at him.

“I am not afraid of you,” the man said, looking Pavel in the eye. Pavel nodded in acknowledgement and ignored the fact that the man was shaking. His fear was completely reasonable.

“You may leave.”

“What?” the man asked.

“Was I not clear?”

“You’ll follow me. Or send your soldiers to track me.”

Pavel kept his smile, though it was sharper that before. “Do you believe that I do not know where the rebellion is hiding?” He strode over to the man and, via the man’s shirt, pulled him down to meet Pavel’s gaze. “If wanted you or any other human dead, I would not need your help.”

edited 4th Jan '13 11:29:43 PM by UmLovely

“A good fight followed by a good meal is the perfect recipe to a perfect morning,” Lennik said as he stuffed his face. “Doesn’t get much better than this, my friend!”

Takon paused. “I lost two men today.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Lennik said sincerely. Then his smile returned in full force. “But, you can’t let it get you down. When somebody steals from you, you don’t brood over it. You put your game face on and kick some ass! That’s the way they did it in the heroic epics, so that’s how it should be done in real life! Avenge now, grieve later!”

“Steal?” Takon said in disbelief. “Lennik, they’re people, not possessions.”

Lennik sighed and began stabbing into his vegetables with his fork. “Look, you’re just not getting it. They’re your people, aren’t they? They’re your friends. In a way, doesn’t that mean they belong to you?”

Takon shook his head in exasperation.

edited 6th Apr '12 8:53:25 PM by Lennik

"The Emergency Alert System has been activated at the request of the Skaia City Police Department. A terrorist attack is in progress. At 4:13 PM, a large group of men armed with assault weaponry opened fire on civilians in the Reckoning Falls Shopping Center. While some of these men were eliminated by police at the scene, several were reported to get into a blue sports utility vehicle and were seen heading for City Hall. Witnesses report that they were throwing explosives from the windows at pursuing police forces. Stay inside and do not go near windows. Do not travel. Do not approach these terrorists under any circumstances.

The Emergency Alert System has been activated, do not use the telephone, the lines should be open for emergencies only."

(The attack being described makes everything kick off)

• Generally any of the strange pseudo-philosophy spouted by Touma Carnegie, also known by his egrigiously obvious Name to Run Away From Really Fast: The Demise Lord of Carnage. He was a part of my earlier writing, which was...well, really bizarre. As in, my creative writing teacher said, "The main draw is...well, you want to know how weird its gonna get next." Some samples of Touma's weird ramblings:
  • "How can we, as men, be assured our hands are not guided by metaphysical forces beyond our ability to comprehend, yet how can we also be sure we are not lone minnows swimming in a crashing river? Should we, as humans, simply tend to our lot in life as sheep waiting for the wolf's jaws to clench 'round neck? I do not consent."
  • "Thy sense lacks, thy knowledge lacks, and thy mind suffers, ye be unfit to rule!"
  • "Every man is an island in a good world, as we watch as each betrayal comes and goes, all blend together, forming an endless string of trusts being broken, shall we tend this over to the demon-lover of most men, Fate? Or shall I grasp my own individuality, and with it slaughter the faces which blend together into crowd and clique?"

edited 7th Apr '12 1:57:06 PM by NickTheSwing

I'm around two-thirds sure that those 'thine's should be 'thy's. I'm not certain but I have a vague idea that 'thine' is only before a word starting with a vowel or a H.

Yeah, all those "thine"s should be "thy". And "ye" is the plural, so it seems like he's suddenly talking to many people rather than just one.

Touma is weird. Why he said ye, addressing many people, was that the guy he just offed had some spoiled heirs. In his words, "They know naught a wit better than their parent, thus their lives are toxic, parasitic to the world, they are candles which may well fall upon valued scrolls, thus they must be extinguished."

His weapon is possibly more over the top than him. Its a single edge blade as long as Touma is tall (seven feet, for reference), and has fifty long blade-like spikes attached, and which can launch off and act as extremely fast cutting weapons.

edited 7th Apr '12 2:03:13 PM by NickTheSwing

Ye/Thee/Thine etc may well be over played by modern people, and we can blame teh Victorians for that (as we can for many misconceptions of the medieval period). For instance, Y was often used by early printers as a substitute for the 'thorn' character, which was a 'th' sound. It would have been said The, not Ye.

No, "ye" (with a Y, not a "thorn") is legit Early Modern English for "you" (plural). (Only in the nominative; the accusative/dative was "you", just like in Modern English.)

Thou/thee (and the genitives, thy/thine) are second person singular.

Are you calling Stephen Fry a liar?

No. "Ye" meaning "the" is caused by misreading the "thorn" as a Y; "ye" meaning "you" is a real word.

From the moment The Mole finally tips his hand:

[Character A] (Currently bleeding out on the ground): Bastard... I trusted you! She trusted you! How could you just —

[Mole]: Oh, you're still alive? Interesting. Actually, thank you for reminding me about that. I'd almost forgotten our little deal. If I remember correctly, you told me that if I ever did anything to hurt her, you'd shoot me in the head. And I told you that if I ever hurt her, I'd hand you the gun myself.

The mole hands character A a pistol

I've fulfilled my end of the bargain. Let's see if you can do the same.

A aims straight at the mole's head, the gun visibly shaking. He slowly squeezes the trigger with the very last of his strength. The hammer comes back, and then clicks forward to signal an empty chamber. The mole grins - subdued, but present. A's eyes widen in horror and rage right before he falls dead.

Precisely. More fun facts about early Modern English and late Middle English:

• "Or" is actually a shortened form of other *
  (not the same as in "the other option"; one is voiced [like in "there"], one unvoiced [as in "thin"])
  , which as used up into the mid-1600s.
• "Not" is an abbreviated form of naught, which in turn is the absolute form of ne—a word from whence we also get never—which was long used where "not" is today. This was initially a matter of degree: "I will ne marry him" is not so strong as "I will not marry him." The Scots still use it, naturally.
• For flavour here, maugre is a fabulous word for "in spite of," although it's more flippant than that. To say "maugre that" is to say that you are going to completely ignore the preceding fact. It is very useful.

"I am Wulfrith, Prince of Mercia, son of Raedwulf, son of Beorn. I have killed a troll with my bare hands, I have made countless widows and left countless orphans." He drew his sword and pointed it at Carl. "This is Shieldbreaker, forged by the finest smiths, and into each twist a powerful gothi inscribed runes of power, of war and of death, each filled with his own blood. When it bites your skin it will suck your soul, like a leach sucks your blood. Prepare to die."

Wulfrith ran at Carl, sword held high over his head, ready for the killing blow. "Lot's changed in twelve hundred years," Carl said as he drew the sawn off shotgun from inside his overcoat, and discharged both barrels at a range of five meters. Wulfrith's stomach disintegrated.

Wulfrith's body was already turning to dust as he hit the floor, as twelve centuries caught up with him. Carl squatted by the sword, which was now rusting rapidly. He took a vial of blue powder from a pocket, and sprinkled some over the sword's rusty skeleton. The powder glowed an intense blue light, then faded as the last of the steel became a powdery red dust, which was carried away in the wind.

"Damn," said Carl, "I would have liked a pattern welded sword, and that was one fine gothi you had there."