Favorite Line You've Ever Written

And in the end you have to save your own ass.

From my twisted Christmas Drabble. It just stands out to me.

I was always the opposite and never the inverse. I was never what I should have been and I should never have been what I was. - From an upcoming Kurt Cobain inspired drabble.

"There are some things that can not be described, often times to a point where that the sheer attempt to describe the thing does nothing more than demean it." - Oi and a Porta Potty

Venomous.:

I was always the opposite and never the inverse. I was never what I should have been and I should never have been what I was.

I love that.

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I have plenty of lines that I like, of course, but for some reason this one just keeps coming back.

"Don't delude the mind that lingers, life is not a thing to keep."
-The Rose Game [poem]

Honestly, I couldn't narrow it down to any particular line from a story. In between all my unpublished stories and thousands of role-play posts, it tends to be difficult. =/

ImagineSocks:

I love that.

________________________

I have plenty of lines that I like, of course, but for some reason this one just keeps coming back.

"Don't delude the mind that lingers, life is not a thing to keep."
-The Rose Game [poem]

Honestly, I couldn't narrow it down to any particular line from a story. In between all my unpublished stories and thousands of role-play posts, it tends to be difficult. =/

Thank you.

Make love. For the longest time, I had forgotten what that phrase meant. When I had sex, I didn't make love; I made shame, regret and disgust.

That's from my story Chaos.

It's more of a chunk than a line...

She had these walls, her defences; she’d taken years to build them properly, occasionally, someone would take a good hard punch at it, and maybe chip the brickwork a little, sometimes, knock out a brick, but that wall stayed up, strong and sturdy, and then that person would be the one walking away with a broken hand, not her...
But he had been clever, instead of trying to knock those walls down; he’d dug under them, and was now nestled, quite safely, behind those walls with her.

From; Grace.

Clubhouse:
It was dark. The only thing Bert heard were the sounds of the leaves crunching beneath his feet as he walked through the woods behind his friend, Branden. He doesn’t know how he ended up this far away from his house, but he knew it had something to do with Branden’s tempting voice.
“Come on, Bert,” He would say. “Just follow me. I won’t hurt you. I’m your best friend.”
-
Bert just stared at the boy’s outstretched hand, not making any effort to become this boy’s friend. Jeph slowly let his arm fall to his side. Bert felt accomplished as Jeph took off into the kitchen after his mother. Besides, the last thing Bert wanted was friends; they never got him anywhere.

^^I don't know why, but I'm really proud of those.

Some favorite lines from a story of mine. I think it's good to know that the girl Julie is nine years old. Better for picturing the scene.

“Hey, who’s the kid?”

Julie looked to the man who had spoken and spent two seconds to take in his extremely muscular and tattooed physique; then she frowned. She took few steps to stand in front of him and then placed her hands on her hips. “Hey, mister.” She said loudly, standing on her tiptoes to give herself a little more height against his towering frame. “I ain’t a kid. I’m a lady. And I can’t tell you who I am ‘cause it’s just like I done told that one,” she paused to jab her thumb in Jimmy’s direction. “You’s a stranger and I’m not a sposed to talk to strangers.”

Never in Matthew Charles Sanders’ life had he ever been rendered absolutely speechless by something a girl had said to him. This was definitely a first, and it was by a girl that looked about the size of one of his arms. How humiliating.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out, watching him twitch on the mattress like a Frankenstein, a convulsing science experiment with a metal pin in its brain. Maybe he was dying; a momentary return to lucidity before BANG: implosion, darkness, nothing. Nihilism, never-ending black holes collapsing into themselves in lurid purple fractals, the absence of God. Those absinthe eyes deadbolted to mine like tiny cosmic mirrors, two parallel universes expanding away from their black circle centers into geometrical haloes of veiny, latticed green.

- from Angelfuck.

They were quiet, just like much of the rest of the man that stood next to Range and drove him so completely insane that he wondered – late, late, late at night, of course – whether or not things would ever go back to normal, and whether or not he would one day be able to outright say that he wanted to make him blush crimson, blush the color red in ways that were not meant to be described in words but only in actions, in kisses and touches and whispers.

But never ever, ever words.

- from The Color Red.

"Where you go, what you do? It’s all written somewhere—in a room where people laugh at your dreams. Nothing you say or do is of any real surprise to them, let alone significance. The only real decision you make is to live or to die."

"I couldn’t describe my attraction to Dex aside from obviously fatal."

"I didn’t believe in stupid ideas like love at first sight, and I still didn’t believe in it now. This wasn’t love, this wasn’t even like it—this was just an attraction that defied logical things like gravity and boyfriends."

"The room smelled of sulfur and burning plastic, and I was alone."

-All quotes are from unposted pieces

To be with someone forever, you have to trust them. Trusting someone that much is hard, it’s really hard and most people don’t deserve that kind of trust, because what have they done to earn it? Muttered three little words after sex, when you’re half passed out? Maybe they held your hair while you puked your guts up after a party, or maybe they lied for you, something. Something that you think gives them the rights to your trust, but it doesn’t.
-- Jepha, from The Ocean Created Us.
Huge chunk, I know. :3

I actually have a lot XD
'Whow! It's a steroid mushroom!' ~From a crossover I did involving Ron and Harry getting sucked into Mario Kart
"THIS....IS....HERBOLOGY!!!!" ~From my crackfic Reading Between the Lines
"Gog gam id! Goo gade ig worse! Mach ich gop!!!” ~From the one-shot Test Subjects
"I stood outside the Burrow, my wand in my right hand, my prized Firebolt in my left, and my emerald and gold Quidditch robes billowing around me in the wind." From As The Sister of Harry Potter because it was the first line I had ever written that I loved, and it's quite possibly the start of my writing additcion.

But you’re still spreading yourself for anyone because you haven’t quite figured out what it means to be loved.
- Much Too Young to Feel This Damn Old.

She see’s everything, and collapses in his arms.
~Easy Money

Dominic has cried a thousand times. He cries at the end of Moulin Rouge, and he cries when he thinks about his dad, and he cries when he falls over and hits his head on the banister and has to go to hospital because he has a concussion. He feels silly but he cries.

Matthew never cries. He watches Moulin Rouge in stony silence, and his dad is still alive, and he has never fallen over and hit his head on the banister and had to go to hospital because a concussion. He just doesn’t cry.

I spurted those two paragraph things out in about a minute, and I can honestly say I've fallen in love with them.

Matthew talks too much and yet he never says anything at all.

-- Both from an unnamed fic I'm working on right now.

The words fly out of his mouth like fucking projectile vomit and then he’s just silent, as if afraid of the next cascade of unintelligent and weak words that’ll fly from his dry mouth.

-- Next and currently unposted chapter of Boy Toy.

He seemed to read it as if it was a clock, and his fingers, as rough as tree roots, tapped a pendulum’s rhythm upon the oaken curve of his bow. Hair sprouted from his head like shrubbery upon a desert plain, and the freckles on his sun-kissed cheeks lay squashed in the crinkles of his squinting face.

Part of a deserted story I started. I have no idea why, but I really like the description I used.

From Bad Guys Wear Black:

"Oh my God I'm feeling them die."

He was overwhelmed with terror, and the bleeding freaks on the road seemed hopeless in their pain.

Suddenly it didn’t seem to matter, even if he could turn over and look at the stars and die.

from Echoes & Silence:

“No. I don’t want him to be cold. That’s why he should be in his jumper. It’ll keep him warm.”

“…one day, you will not be here anymore."

from Glass Dream:

He already knows his guitar off by heart. He knows what it likes, and doesn’t like. It speaks for itself.

He only just manages to comprehend the fact he’s lifting his arms above his head, the already screaming audience under his reign.

The white noise used to fuel him. Now, he’s drowning in it.

He’s frightened that Malcolm isn’t going to turn out like he wants him to, maybe he’ll have red hair and a green vest and orange jeans.

All it takes for him to fly is to hurl himself to the ground.

"I’m a dream…someone caught me in a butterfly net…"

Glass dreams are beautiful, in their reflective, protective vicinity.