• Scrine is the home of lost, forgotten, and lonely sentences.
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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."
Juan came to regret shouting, “Show me a sign you exist!” after about three weeks of driving in which he never once hit a green light.
Gods turn into angels, angels turn into people, people turn into dirt which the worms burrow through, dreaming of gods, beginning the process all over again.
“Come on,” Zeus thundered into the mouthpiece, “pick up!”
The land started to burn and scorch and the oceans began to boil as the planet-sized magnifying glass was tilted this way and that, and all the while the guy in white robes giggled and sneered.
Look, I know those daisy chains you’ve been making of late are pretty and I know you’ve out grown the villagers we gave you for your graduation but your mother is right - if you won’t lift a finger in smite we have no choice but to send you off to smoting school.
When asked about the mess, the gods told Kierkegaard that sweeping was philosopher’s work.
Nothing makes a god grumpier than having his fresh lavender scent tainted by whuffy doggy wetness.
The gods are not immortal living only as long as the span of one man’s dream
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