Favorite lines you've written

[BethS]

Really, really enjoyed that, especially the part I quoted. Quite eerily, I have a similar character in my WIP: he's also a king, and also wrongfully accused of killing his wife. He's one of my favourite characters. I really enjoy writing him.

(In this passage, he is about to kill the mother of a girl who he thinks stole his wife's necklace. She tries to appeal to him as a parent, but he's kind of touchy about these things. Translated from French, so I hope it doesn't sound too clunky.)

"Were you not a father, too?"
Silence fell across the plain. Amsukhar staggered backwards. The dagger slipped out of his fingers, falling on the altar with a thud.
And he remembered. The child had been so small in his arms, so frail, like a new bud. They had stared at each other, the man and the newborn, and Amsukhar had felt something shudder inside him. Everything he had ever wanted to give Elethis, everything he had tried to give her was here, in this tiny creature with watery eyes and a sniffling breath. Everything he had wanted to give - that another man had given instead.
Amsukhar leaned against the altar, unable to contain the memories now. The baby's body, like all those at the palace during the fire, had never been found; but Amsukhar knew that somewhere in the rubble, its ashes mingled with Elethis's. Knew that, had it not been for her child, she would not have run into the blaze. Knew that without him, she would not be dead.
Amsukhar's fingers clasped the dagger.
"Never," he choked.
He flicked his wrist, the woman cried out, and the ground was spattered with blood.

If it's this good in translation, it must be amazing in the original.

 

[BethS]

Some astonishing work has been posted here in the last couple days. I am humbled.

 

[WriteMinded]

Some astonishing work has been posted here in the last couple days. I am humbled.

Yes. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.

 

[phantasy]

Really, really enjoyed that, especially the part I quoted. Quite eerily, I have a similar character in my WIP: he's also a king, and also wrongfully accused of killing his wife. He's one of my favourite characters. I really enjoy writing him.

(In this passage, he is about to kill the mother of a girl who he thinks stole his wife's necklace. She tries to appeal to him as a parent, but he's kind of touchy about these things. Translated from French, so I hope it doesn't sound too clunky.)

"Were you not a father, too?"
Silence fell across the plain. Amsukhar staggered backwards. The dagger slipped out of his fingers, falling on the altar with a thud.
And he remembered. The child had been so small in his arms, so frail, like a new bud. They had stared at each other, the man and the newborn, and Amsukhar had felt something shudder inside him. Everything he had ever wanted to give Elethis, everything he had tried to give her was here, in this tiny creature with watery eyes and a sniffling breath. Everything he had wanted to give - that another man had given instead.
Amsukhar leaned against the altar, unable to contain the memories now. The baby's body, like all those at the palace during the fire, had never been found; but Amsukhar knew that somewhere in the rubble, its ashes mingled with Elethis's. Knew that, had it not been for her child, she would not have run into the blaze. Knew that without him, she would not be dead.
Amsukhar's fingers clasped the dagger.
"Never," he choked.
He flicked his wrist, the woman cried out, and the ground was spattered with blood.

Really awesome. Got me connecting to him in this one passage.

 

[thedark]

“What’s the problem?” Derek scowled at Dr. Keegan, and the short scientist frowned back at him, syringe poised over Derek’s bare arm.

“This is highly irregular,” said Dr. Keegan. “You’re not on the inoculation schedule for another three days.”

“Bauer’s orders. Pria’s going topside within the hour.”

“Hrmph,” said Dr. Keegan, then jabbed a small needle into Derek’s arm with more relish than Derek had thought the diminutive man was capable of.

Derek stood, rolling his sleeve back down. “Status on the transport vial?”

“Dr. Hauser is in decon right now. But I’m really going to have to insist on discussing this with Bauer.” Dr. Keegan frowned again, blinking at Derek over his rimless glasses.

“Fine,” said Derek. “We’ll go together as soon--”

Through the glass behind Dr. Keegan, Kay stood watching in the corridor, a gun in her hands.

Defying him, daring him.

“Three minutes, Doctor. Then I want the transport vial ready.”

“But--”

Derek wasn’t listening. He was moving towards the door, towards the girl that challenged him. She backed up as he advanced, never breaking eye contact. When the door slid open with a hiss and Derek stepped into the hallway, she was fifteen feet away, her shoulders against the wall.

“What are you doing, Kay?”

She shook her head, bruises dark against her pale skin.

Still stunning, still his.

She slipped her pistol behind her back as he approached, tucking it under her belt. Why follow him then, if she wasn’t going to fight?

Derek cornered her against the concrete, then wrapped his hands around her slender throat. “Answer me.”

Kay gazed at him, then wove her fingers into his hair and curved her body into his, pulling him closer. Derek swore inside, then leaned down to crush her lips with his. She tasted like blood and defiance and loss, all mixed together.

Dammit, why would she do this to him?

A deep tremble went through the girl, then she pulled away. She took a ragged breath, then met his gaze and said, “You need to go.”

She glanced down the hall towards the twin elevator shafts, then back at him, her eyes pleading. “Go, Derek. They’re coming. Right now.”

Fuck.

 

[Hapax Legomenon]

The soup continued to be soup.

This is the most brilliant line in my entire novel thus far and I will fight to keep it in.

 

[guttersquid]

The soup continued to be soup.

I find that compelling for some reason.

 

[williemeikle]

From my novel THE EXILED

You've just given your wee posh company car away to a known villain in exchange for an old banger and two bacon rolls, you're on the run accused of murder, and your only alibi is that you were away in Fairyland with a big black bird. It's hardly any wonder something smells of shite.

 

[Le Hewitt]

This one is taken from a work in progress.

"Sarah... Don't you ever forgive me."

 

[chompers]

Really, really enjoyed that, especially the part I quoted. Quite eerily, I have a similar character in my WIP: he's also a king, and also wrongfully accused of killing his wife. He's one of my favourite characters. I really enjoy writing him.

(In this passage, he is about to kill the mother of a girl who he thinks stole his wife's necklace. She tries to appeal to him as a parent, but he's kind of touchy about these things. Translated from French, so I hope it doesn't sound too clunky.)

"Were you not a father, too?"
Silence fell across the plain. Amsukhar staggered backwards. The dagger slipped out of his fingers, falling on the altar with a thud.
And he remembered. The child had been so small in his arms, so frail, like a new bud. They had stared at each other, the man and the newborn, and Amsukhar had felt something shudder inside him. Everything he had ever wanted to give Elethis, everything he had tried to give her was here, in this tiny creature with watery eyes and a sniffling breath. Everything he had wanted to give - that another man had given instead.
Amsukhar leaned against the altar, unable to contain the memories now. The baby's body, like all those at the palace during the fire, had never been found; but Amsukhar knew that somewhere in the rubble, its ashes mingled with Elethis's. Knew that, had it not been for her child, she would not have run into the blaze. Knew that without him, she would not be dead.
Amsukhar's fingers clasped the dagger.
"Never," he choked.
He flicked his wrist, the woman cried out, and the ground was spattered with blood.

Beautiful.
PS. I'm curious to see the original version.

 

[D S LILLICO]

Mine is from my post apocalyptic novel where children have not been seen for years;

"There’s children down there, ma’am,” responded Brick. “I can see them moving through the burnt landscape, hiding in the blackened trees, and dancing on the dead. I can hear their songs in my sleep."

 

[StarryEyes]

Thank you to everyone who commented on my passage!

Beautiful.
PS. I'm curious to see the original version.

Thanks! I can PM it to you if you like. Do you speak French?

 

[chompers]

Thank you to everyone who commented on my passage!



Thanks! I can PM it to you if you like. Do you speak French?

That would be lovely. But if you're not comfortable with sharing it, no problem. And yes, I do speak French.

 

[noraline]

from my rewrite:

Lottie takes in a breath, peers down at her curled fists. In the valleys between her knuckles, she glimpses the ghosts of larger hands—a boy’s hands. She thinks of: summertime and cartoon-suns. The bark-spine of an apple tree. A plea: I wish I could touch you. An answer, on a headstone.

 

[Donkey]

And there it was – the big lie. It barely stood out from the rest of his polished speech, like a fat fly baked into a blueberry muffin.

 

[Ian Thompson]

"This is going to hurt a lot, fortunately all I'll feel is the recoil."

Its a cheesy line but I still smile when I read it.

 

[chompers]

StarryEyes, I just saw your French version. You did a good job on the translation, but WOW, the French version hits you so much harder. I literally teared up.

 

[StarryEyes]

StarryEyes, I just saw your French version. You did a good job on the translation, but WOW, the French version hits you so much harder. I literally teared up.

Oh my, thank you so much! It means a lot!

To be honest, I didn't expect such a positive response from you guys. I was just like "eh, why not" and posted one of my favourite passages from my WIP. I am surprised and honoured by your feedback

 

[StarryEyes]

Mine is from my post apocalyptic novel where children have not been seen for years;

"There’s children down there, ma’am,” responded Brick. “I can see them moving through the burnt landscape, hiding in the blackened trees, and dancing on the dead. I can hear their songs in my sleep."

Oh, I like this one. Great imagery, very haunting. It makes me want to learn more about these children and what happened to them.

 

[Darron]

I'm sure it would mean more in context, but I like this from my WIP,

With a hand on the shoulder of Orion as they walked into his charred home, Marik glared back at Jay and won their argument on fighting the Purists.
Jay looked away in shame. This was Marik's defining moment as a child and directly set him on the path towards his title, the "Pangean trio." In his heart, Jay knew he would have run.

 

[Reziac]

Thank you to everyone who commented on my passage!

Thanks! I can PM it to you if you like. Do you speak French?

You've missed a great career as a translator. This feels like it keeps the sense and the emotion without being at all stiff.

 

[Hapax Legomenon]

"This is going to hurt a lot, fortunately all I'll feel is the recoil."

Its a cheesy line but I still smile when I read it.

It's cute, but unfortunately it is a comma splice!

 

[thedark]

The soft patter of running water wakes me. He’s in the shower.

Oh god--I slept in his arms.

A flush rises in my cheeks and I sit up, pulling the cotton sheet against my chest.

No.

I won’t be embarrassed for this. There’s only me and him here. He held me, and I slept without dreams for the first time in weeks.

He’s not going to force me, to push me.

I rise from the bed, and in the closet I slip into jeans and a light lavender bra. My shoulders are sore from the fight, or perhaps from the tension of seeing so many people. How does Derek go from the quiet solitude of our quarters to out there, every day?

The bathroom door opens and Derek steps into view. He’s wearing only briefs and his hair is still damp, tousled. His eyes are on mine, and I blush.

Damn it.

 

[Abberey]

[FONT=&quot]I guess there is more in this world to be experienced. I might never touch space, but feeling the sunlight on my face is something to look toward to in this gloomy winter.[/FONT]

 

[Rebel-Dynasty]

*Pulls at the collar of her shirt like Rodney Dangerfield used to tug at his ties*

Wow, there are a lot of great writers here, but I shall rise to the challenge. Favourite lines from my works? Hmm...I'd have to say this is one of them:

Feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, Gwen glared back at him. “You could have knocked, first,” she snapped, striding across the room to stand in front of him with her hands on her hips, “Or is it that you haven’t heard of this little thing called privacy? Where I come from, it’s all the rage.”

It was quick, but she just managed to catch a glimpse of it. A flicker of irritation in Phenex’s eyes, his expression darkening for a split second until the mask of indifference carefully slipped back into place, the feverish afterglow in his eyes the only evidence that the adolescent’s sarcasm had hit its mark.

Pleased with herself, she didn’t realize he’d closed the distance between them until his hand came down on her shoulder, gripping it tightly, the teen letting out a gasp at the amount of heat radiating from the palm of his hand.

“You forget yourself, human.” Though his tone was soft, there was no mistaking the underlying current of indignation in his words. However, this was as far as he went, the humanoid phoenix removing his hand and turning his attention to Forneus before she could fully register what had just happened. “I have news; the first one has been located.”