• 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."
A few things might irk you today.
Finishing your broccoli will bring you great serenity.
You will suffer immense pleasure.
Your tired feet don’t necessarily mean the journey is over.
Hobgoblins and handmaidens conspire against you.
You can count yourself lucky if today is no worse than yesterday.
Fortunately, you have all your parts.
You will wear love like a Mona Lisa smile.
Enjoy jealous love while it lasts, because it won’t.
All your base will be belong to us.
Organizational skills beyond your wildest dreams await you.
Now would be a good time to ask.
Boredom will always be the most influential force shaping your life.
You will smell something extremely vile, very soon.
Your afternoon will be mostly sucky with occasional glimmers of false hope.
You will be forced forever to explicate your own name to those you wish to know you and nothing ever will be simple.
You are an artist; you will starve, but there will always be grouper.
Your waiter is not as he appears.
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That guy across from you is not worth the effort.
Your life will involve a lot more running and a great deal less jumping from here on out.
No fortunes will be in your cookies.
You will dream poorly, again.
You’re lucky, there’s nothing wrong with you today that can’t be cured by a strong cup of coffee and an attitude adjustment.
You will submit your stunningly perfect, prize-winning “fortune” entry just in time to beat Keith’s August 9 deadline.
You know that time when you were the most happy you had ever been, and you were content, and everything was perfect, you were with friends and the light was just so and the meal was excellent and you looked forward to another week of the same? 5 10 14 36 45
You will determine that comments on Wordshadows are not worth the pixels they’re printed on and you will shut them off beginning at, say, 7:23 pm 8/9/2005.
You will discover that the artificial sweetener in your diet soda causes far worse depression than is caused by occasional sugar-induced mood swings and carrying a few extra pounds.
Destiny and Faith will knock on your door; you will be overcome with surprise; they will hand you a pamphlet.
There are phone calls you really want to pick up, but that one won’t be one of them.
You will soon have your faith tested and score a 72.
i’m certain that if business is not yet booming, it will be.
You need a biscuit.
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