• Scrine is the home of lost, forgotten, and lonely sentences.
• Play nice. Be kind. Post only single sentences.
• Scrine gives everyone plenty of rope to play with, but reminds everyone that even the longest rope is capable of hanging a person.
• Censorship is ugly, but still not the ugliest bird in the sky. Happily, this has never been necessary.
• The appropriateness of all sentences will remain the sole discretion of Scrine's tender.
• Anyone. Reading along costs nothing but time.
• Membership is required to post your own sentences. Joining is quick and painless.
• With membership comes the unique privilege of calling yourself a Scriner.
• Your information will never be sold, given away, shared, or even traded for an unimaginably delicious slice of pie.
• The above sentence may be the only sentence on this site that is 100% true.
Use this space for notes and reminders to yourself.
This is a private space. Only you will see your notes.
Expiration date is not required, only if you want the note to magically disappear.
A great place to keep your fantastic ideas, like, "Hey! I need to write more sentences about crickets and English gentlemen with unruly beards."
Harry Potter remembered the dreadful day Dumbledore had told him he must either kill Voldemort, or be killed; however, over the years, the lack of a timeframe for this showdown had stretched his fear into a kind of rubbery anxiety, so that often he could not recall exactly what was worrying him.
At first there were just spots which could be ignored or mopped up, but as the rising tide of paper covered his entire office floor, a cold layer of anxiety floated on top, quickly rising to envelop his chest, heart and lungs.
I’ve been voluntarily unemployed for two weeks now…why does the fact that I’m not panicking make me feel like I should panic?
I’ve been holding my breath for about 18 years.
As Bob sat staring blankly at the computer screen a gnawing anxiety began to grow, what if comments had been turned off on his favorite website because its owner had decided that Bob was a babbling idiot who wasn’t adding anything to the conversation, and was there a conversation, or was Bob just a babbling idiot who had been fooling himself all along?
One of the scariest things in the modern world is to let a friend know your blog exists.
My tummy’s filled with teeth that grind, my head is filled with butter-
His psychologist tended to stare upwards just above his head, a fact which caused him no small amount of neurotic anxiety.
Somehow, knowing that it was only a practice exam brings me no comfort at all.
While Milo has his anxiety closet, Toby has an anti-anxiety closet where he goes to escape the dangers of the world at large.
As the mother of a teenager, it felt to Patsy as though she had been re-enrolled in high school; she laid awake the night before the first day, trying to remember how to count to 100 in French and wondering whether geometry would defeat her as before.
Sunday is the loneliest day of the week filling me with unease and dread.
Copyright @ 2005 - 2017
153 queries in 0.9944 seconds