Newest quotes & creative writing ideas


Without hesitation, they both slowly moved in. Their lips finally united together, her plump, velvety lips compelling against his slimmer, warm ones, dancing around and soon bonding together. Epiphany and elation percolated into their veins and soon the entire system as he continued to press his lips more impenetrably and rougher onto Avery’s lips. His insistent mouth was parting her trembling lips, sending wild tremors along her nerves, inflicting sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling. Then, she kissed him back, the kiss getting deeper, deeper than all the galaxies in the universe. Her vanilla lips imprinting themselves on Caden’s like a footprint in the snow, forging a sense of exoticism and roguery.
No one has ever kissed her like this. Ha! Nobody had ever kissed her. She'd always wondered what stories meant by melting in a kiss, now she fully understood, dissolving into Caden’s lips.


They weren’t horrific because they were decaying. They were horrible because they still looked human. Aside from the missing patches of flesh and the torn clothing, the drying blood and white and red eyes, they looked normal.


My eyesight blurred, but not because tears were welling up. Everything became fuzzy; then I saw nothing at all. My consciousness was floating through an empty space filled with a thick static. Throughout the inky space my heartbeats pounded loudly, echoing in my ears, alongside fading pleas for help.
Feeling in my body drained away until finally all was black.

Brown eyes

His eyes were the color of deep sienna, with a mischievous glint that seemed to reflect the corners of his mouth, which were fighting a smile. They were every shade of brown you could imagine, a raw umber and caramel mix, dotted with bits of dark chocolate. They glow with humor and playfulness that gives you shivers and wraps you in a warm embrace at the same time.


It’s strange, I knew I’d been meandering through the forest for no more than about 30 minutes, yet the almost claustrophobic blackness got me to wondering whether darkness had fallen beyond the woods. And so, perhaps in a of moment of reassurance, I felt in my pocket for my torch, I checked my compass; made sure it was tied secure to my belt loop, just in case, and slipped it back in my pocket after confirming north. The thickets and branches were all out for mischief, I could barely walk a meter without some miscreant offshoot weaving itself around my legs and pulling me face-down into the loam. Branches of neighbouring trees entwined and interlocked from every height and angle, and conspired to divert my direct route harrowing my every step, pulling at my coat and trousers, scratching at every exposed part of my body, drawing drops of my blood. Some of the bolder branches, in their devilry, delivered punishing and stinging thwacks that could only be matched by Dickens’ Whackford Squeers.


The lie slipped out, smooth and easy like melted butter running down toast.

hysterical crying

The world turned into a blur, and so did all the sounds. The taste. The smell. Everything was just gone. I paused trying to hold back the strange feelings rumbling inside me but I couldn’t. A lone tear traced down my cheek, and just like that, the floodgates opened. So many tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down my face. My chin trembled as if I was a small child. I breathed heavier than I ever had before. I was gasping for air that simply wasn’t there. My throat burned forming a silent scream. Is this what crying felt like? A part of me dying inside yet, relief…

war ravaged

I can remember, the people I’ve lived with as long as I could remember, their piercing screams, they tore through me like great shards of glass, desperate, terrified, I felt my eyes widen and pulse quicken, my heart thudding like a rock rattling in box. What was happening? That was the day… That was the day I lost everything…

The day it happened, I had been at school. I was writing away happily, I didn’t know, but I should’ve enjoyed the happiness while I could. At that moment, the thick scent of melted paint and scorched wood entered my nose. My vision became blurry. Black smoke filled the room, and filled my lungs. Everyone started coughing started in an instant like the tears that washed over my eyes. I had become hazy and could barely see, all I could hear was the teacher, speaking in a soft whisper.
“You...all…leave…once…now…go…exit...understand? ” That was all I could hear.
I just followed the panicking children in my class to the emergency exit. Just then, for a moment I saw the flames burn with colours I never thought it would. With each flare I know another bit of my town is alight. I was the last to get to the door, wheezing and desperate for air. Instantly, when I couldn’t see where I was going, I collapsed to the floor before I could make it and I felt a pain that isn't sharp like a needle point or a knife, and I felt it burn my insides like I was taking a shower in boiling hot water. I barely managed to crawl out, but when I did I felt a piercing pain go down my leg. And when I looked down, all I could see was my leg burning.


I let people down. I let them down so far that there is not enough light for them to see that I didn't mean it, they cannot see the look in my eyes that says that I would do anything to change it, they cant even find a ladder to climb their way out of the deep misery I put them in. At least, that's what they tell me. That I descend them so far into darkness that there is no getting out. And so, that is what I tell myself.


Her eyes shifted to the side again and became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. She bit her lip tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from her mouth; my heart sank.

Her lower lip quivered as words slowly made their way out of her mouth. “They’re…” She began, yet what followed was engulfed in the tremors.


If I bow my head and fold my hands,
Then will you hear my prayer?
If I am faithful and meet all your demands,
Will you rescue me from the slayer?
If I help the poor with caring hands,
Then will you lead me to that castle in the air?
If I do good, even in faraway lands,
Then will you show me your love everywhere?

“Child, child” he answered me,
“Why do you try to earn my love?
I paid the price already, don’t you see?
Now you are innocent as a dove!
Yes your sins are many, but I took them on myself when I hung on the tree,
They are covered in my blood!
My gift is free,
If you choose to believe it, and bow your heart to your savior above.”

love letter

A letter to my love,
I have never been very good at talking. Whenever I try to express the emotions whirling in my soul, my throat tightens blocking me from saying anything. So I will write. I never should have let you go, I realize that now. I chased after things that looked good, or women who were pretty but never truly had a place in my heart. You were always there for me every time I chased after one obsession or another. You quietly stood by my side supporting me. Though I didn’t know it at the time, I loved you, you were more than just a best friend to me. I could tell you things easily and you just listened. You always made me laugh. I thought I had my life figured out, but I didn’t. Without my knowing from the moment I first saw you real love began to take shape in my heart. I only truly realized it when I saw you at the homeless shelter. You didn’t know I was there, but I looked at you then and realized that I loved you. You were so different from the other girls I chased. You cared. Love radiated in your heart spilling out into the lives of all those around you. You weren’t just pretty on the outside you had a beauty somewhere deep within.


Words might just be blots of ink on a page, but they have power. They might be simple sounds carelessly uttered from a mouth, but they can crush confidence and provoke anger. Words might be soft and emotional, cried in the midst of war, but they have the power to arise courage in the hearts of men. Words might be sung from the bottom of a hurting heart with no one listening, but they have the power to reach the ear of a great God who can turn sorrow into dancing. Words might be little things written on a little square piece of paper, but they have the power to bind hearts or separate them. They have the power to start wars or end them.


I want you to let me grow up,
But at the same time I want you to still see me as your little buttercup.
I want you to give me some room,
But at the same time I want you to always be there in the doom.
I want you to hold me on stormy days,
When lightning strikes and outside it’s a daze.
I want you to trust me, with your full heart.
Even when I mess up, still trust every part.
I want you to hold my hand,
Silently be there without demand.
I want you to teach me by your walk,
Not just by the words that you talk.
I want you to guide me when I am lost,
To always show up without a cost.
I want you to love me, each and every day,
And every night I will fall to me knees and pray.
Thanking my creator for blessing me with,
Wonderful parents that, despite their faults, are defiantly no myth.


Sunlight filled the sky, pure scattered light; its hue ambitiously illuminating each crevice of the land. Sparrows chirped an explicit background melody. With breath paused in my lungs, I wished time would halt. The trees shone as if they were wearing golden crowns and the vast sea was not able to absorb the bright sparks of the sun.The tides on the sea were racing among each other to reach the horizon from where the mighty godlike sun appeared. And though time continued, the emotions that flowed stilled my soul.


The world is aquiver.
Shaking. Blurring at the edges.
I can’t tell up from down.
I’m not sure if I’m breathing.
A claustrophobic, blinding light ensnares the universe.
I choke as I am pulled apart, as I slowly explode from the inside out…
The pain is unbearable, building, building, building --!
A scream is torn from my chest.
Quickly, shadow falls, washing away the blinding sharpness of the sky.
A moment of silence. Then everything shatters.

A sweet, smooth, mellifluous music flows gently through the glass.
The mirrored edge of the world has broken into a million pieces, too thick to ever see through, but still the music comes.
Relief floods my existence.
The dulcet golden melody washes over everything, leaving a sort of glow in its wake. Honeyed, sweetly mellow, liquid, rich, smooth, euphonious. Slowly, slowly-slowly, I emerge.
This feeling, I can’t capture it with words.

Standing, solitary, in the sweet golden glory, I remember.
Homesickness floods me.
I am longing for a place that never was, I realize.
Alone in the vanishing mist of harmony, I begin to cry.

I’m still crying when I wake.

The powerful longing feeling of the dream stays with me, lingering, unshakeable, in the air.

I have the same dream. Every night, without fail.
It is several moments before it clears. My eyes are really open. I can really see.


I climb out the window, into the early-morning half-light.
Tendrils of iridescent silver mist creep over the mountainside. Harsh wind whips and screams through the cold air. The sky is still dark -- rough oily midnight blue. No sunlight.

Blue Eyes

It had been too dark to get a good look at them before, but his eyes were seriously blue. Almost sickeningly blue - full on Prince Charming, field of cornflower, perfect, cloudless sky blue. Someone should name a crayon after the guy.


"I don't know how to explain it," Melane said as she glanced at the sun. "I guess, I guess you're like the sun," she nodded her head towards the horizon. "You strive to spread your light, but you're too afraid to rise." She looked to my face and whispered, "Rebecca, do you know what the world would do if the sun never rose?"

I gazed at her face, scrunched into a questioning expression. My throat tightened as it always does right before I speak. "Well, I suppose that it wouldn't be as bright." I murmured.

"Yes.” She said sadly, "Without the light of the sun to brighten our days, the world would be depressing. Rebecca, you are that sun. The word needs to be set on fire by the real you: the you God made you to be."

"But Melane,” I protested, “What if I don't know how to rise?”

Melane looked at me with passion in her eyes, she jabbed a finger towards my heart. “The strength to rise comes from inside of you. You are the one who has to decide to break down the walls hiding your true self, and not care what people think. Rebecca, ask the maker who helps the sun rise everyday to guide you by the hand, as you learn to rise from your self-doubt and become all that he has planned.”


Liana stood watching the line where heaven touched earth. Her wide eyes witnessed the resounding glowing collision. Sparks lit the sky and blood poured, as the glory of paradise descended further behind the seam of the world. Liana felt small as she glanced over her shoulder and saw her shadow slowly shrinking towards her feet. She looked back to the line, only a few bright streaks remained to signal heaven’s passing. The sun had set.