Comentarios recientes

aloeverahe
Inhumane? Or Inhuman?

Adeline
Play with a frog? But... what if I can't find him?

Joker-Davian Williams
Com,mas everyw,h,ere commas, everywhere, commas don't, belong everywhere,

Jarod Kintz
Imma do both just in case.

a casual observer
Exactly! The edit function is there for a reason, so that we can improve other …

Más

potterlocked's cotizaciones

Todos cotizaciones

The Curse of Strahd - Haunted One
You are haunted by something so terrible that you dare not speak of it. You've tried to bury it and run away from it, to no avail. Whatever this thing is that haunts you can't be slain with a sword or banished with a spell. The burden has taken its toll, isolating you from most people and making you question your sanity. You must find a way to overcome it before it destroys you...

The Players Handbook - Tieflings
To be greeted with stares and whispers, to suffer violence and insult on the street, to see mistrust and fear in every eye: this is the lot of the tiefling. And to twist the knife, tieflings know that this is because a pact struck generations ago infused the essence of Asmodeus into their bloodline. Their appearance and their nature are not their fault but the result of an ancient sin, for which they and their children and their children's children will always be held accountable.

Bartleby (Ben Affleck) - Dogma (1999)
See in the beginning, it was just us and Him, angels and God. And then he created humans. Ours was designed to be a life of servitude and worship, and bowing and scraping and adoration. He gave them more than He ever gave us. He gave them a choice. They choose to acknowledge God, or choose to ignore Him. All this time we've been down here, I've felt the absence of the divine presence, and it's pained me, as I'm sure it must have pained you. And why? Because of the way He made us!

David Klass - You don't know me.
You don't know the first thing about me. You don't know where I'm writing this from. You don't know what I look like. You have no power over me. What do you think I look like? Skinny? Freckles? Wire-rimmed glasses over brown eyes? No, I don't think so. Better look again. Deeper. It's like a kaleidoscope, isn't it? One minute I'm short, the next minute tall, one minute I'm geeky, one minute studly, my shape constantly changes, and the only thing that stays constant is my brown eyes. Watching you.

Laurie Faria Stolarz - Blue is for Nightmares
They're always the same. Always at night, in the forest, looking for Drea. The sound of his body lurking somewhere behind me. Branches breaking. Leaves crackling. Wind whirring in my ears, watering my eyes. And the pain in my stomach - sharp, raw, scathing. Real. My nightmares make me dread sleep.

Herbie Brennan - Faerie Wars
Henry got up early on the day that changed his life. He was making a cardboard sculpture and he'd left it the night before for the glue to dry out. All he had to do now was add a toothpick shaft and some decorations and the flying pig was finished. Three weeks' work, but today he'd turn the handle and the pig would take off, flapping cardboard wings. Pigs might fly. That's what is said on the base.

Lois Duncan - Killing Mr. Griffin
It was a wild, windy, southwestern spring when the idea of killing Mr. Griffin occurred to them. As she crossed the playing field to reach the school building, Susan McConnell leaned into the wind and cupped her hands around the edges of her glasses to keep the blowing red dust from filling her eyes. Tumbleweeds swept past her like small, furry animals, rushing to pile in drifts against the fence that separated the field from the parking lot.

Kurt Vonnegut - Cat's Cradle
If I were a younger man, I would write a history of human stupidity; and I would climb to the top of Mount McCabe and lie down on my back with my history for a pillow; and I would take from the ground some of the blue-white poison that makes statues of men; and I would make a statue of myself, lying on my back, grinning horribly, and thumbing my nose at You Know Who.

Charles Dickens - Preface to A Christmas Carol
I have endeavored in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humor with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it.