# Writing > General Writing >  The Greatest Story Ever: Give A Great Author's Phrase, Build The Story!

## Lord Macbeth

For each post give a quote/phrase from a book or play no more than three sentences long.

Then someone else posts a phrase/quote from another work that fits and can help us build a "story" out of this mish-mash of quotes...

Let's see what happens when William Shakespeare meets Samuel Clemens meets Samuel Beckett meets Mary Shelly.  :Wink: 

Rules:
-No consecutive posts for either authors, works or for posters, the maximum frequency being every other post; you may go Lord Macbeth/Other/Lord Macbeth, but not Macbeth/Macbeth, and, consequesntly, you may go Shakespeare/Shelly/Shakespeare but not Shakespeare/Shakespeare and may go _Hamlet_/_The Stranger_/_Hamlet_ but not _Hamlet_/_Hamlet_.
-Each quote may only be used once.
-Your post MUST make sense/respond to the previous post...if I, the great Lord Macbeth, give "Something wicked this way comes" you can't post next "So this Tuesday I went out with Fred," as that doesn't really connect with the previous statement.
-Novels, short stories, poems, plays, and philosophical works are all accepted.
-No flaming (does that go without saying?)


OK, let's tell The Greatest Story Ever!

Ahem:

Now is the winter of our discontent, (Richard III)

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## Lord Macbeth

Er...bump?

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## iamnobody

Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. (The Waste Land)

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## Lord Macbeth

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. (Great Expectations)

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## Mallorie

It's strange. There's your life. You begin it, feeling that it's something so precious and rare, so beautiful that it's like a sacred treasure. Now it's over, and it doesn't make any difference to anyone, and it isn't that they are indifferent, it's just that they don't know, they don't know what it means, that treasure of mine, and there's something about it that they should understand. 


(hope that works, never tried this before, bypass me if it doesnt  :Biggrin: )

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## Lord Macbeth

> It's strange. There's your life. You begin it, feeling that it's something so precious and rare, so beautiful that it's like a sacred treasure. Now it's over, and it doesn't make any difference to anyone, and it isn't that they are indifferent, it's just that they don't know, they don't know what it means, that treasure of mine, and there's something about it that they should understand. 
> 
> 
> (hope that works, never tried this before, bypass me if it doesnt )


What's that from...and it doesn't really fit with the other ones, yet, maybe insert it later--but go again, I like your style (remember, it's pick a quote/phrase no more than three sentences long from a work, no consecutive authors or wors, so you can't use _Great Expectations_ or anything from Charles Dickens, but anything else from a play, short story novel, philosophical treatise, or poem is fair game!)  :Smile:

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## Mallorie

Actually I posted an instant after you, so it was meant to follow the first one, it was the only thing I could think of that opened up rather than narrowed down that first quote. Its from We The Living. (it is only three, just two very short, one really long  :Tongue: )

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## Lord Macbeth

LOL  :Biggrin: 

OK, so to put them in the correct order, and see what we have...

Now is the winter of our discontent; (Richard III) under the brown fog of a winter dawn, a crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. (The Waste Land) It's strange. There's your life. You begin it, feeling that it's something so precious and rare, so beautiful that it's like a sacred treasure. Now it's over, and it doesn't make any difference to anyone, and it isn't that they are indifferent, it's just that they don't know, they don't know what it means, that treasure of mine, and there's something about it that they should understand. (We The Living)

And then I'll start a new paragraph with mine...we have such a bleak start!  :Wink: 

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. (Great Expectations)

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## iamnobody

I'd often dreamed of going west to see the country, always vaguely planning and never taking off. (On the Road)

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## Lord Macbeth

Why was this moved, not really "writing," it's taking what we've read and re-arranging...oh well...

So far:

Now is the winter of our discontent; (Richard III) under the brown fog of a winter dawn, a crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. (The Waste Land) It's strange. There's your life. You begin it, feeling that it's something so precious and rare, so beautiful that it's like a sacred treasure. Now it's over, and it doesn't make any difference to anyone, and it isn't that they are indifferent, it's just that they don't know, they don't know what it means, that treasure of mine, and there's something about it that they should understand. (We The Living)

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. (Great Expectations) I'd often dreamed of going west to see the country, always vaguely planning and never taking off (On the Road)--the undiscovered country, from whose born no traveler returns. (Hamlet)

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## iamnobody

As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den, and I laid me down in that place to sleep; and, as I slept, I dreamed a dream.(A Pilgrim's Progress) [sorry if this dosen't work, you may skip it]

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## Lord Macbeth

It works.  :Smile: 

OK, so that's a good start to another paragraph...we've described the world around whoever the "I" in this story is, let's try and get some characters in, maybe?  :Tongue: 

What we have so far with my latest addition:

Now is the winter of our discontent; (Richard III) under the brown fog of a winter dawn, a crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. (The Waste Land) It's strange. There's your life. You begin it, feeling that it's something so precious and rare, so beautiful that it's like a sacred treasure. Now it's over, and it doesn't make any difference to anyone, and it isn't that they are indifferent, it's just that they don't know, they don't know what it means, that treasure of mine, and there's something about it that they should understand. (We The Living)

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. (Great Expectations) I'd often dreamed of going west to see the country, always vaguely planning and never taking off (On the Road)--the undiscovered country, from whose born no traveler returns. (Hamlet) 

As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den, and I laid me down in that place to sleep; and, as I slept, I dreamed a dream. (A Pilgrim's Progress) After my weary body I had rested, the way resumed I on the desert slope, so that the firm foot ever was the lower. (Dante's Inferno.)

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## iamnobody

During my trip to Illium and beyond--a two-week expedition bridging Christmas--I let a poor man named Sherman Krebbs have my New York City apartment free. My second wife had left me on the grounds that I was too pessimistic for an optimist to live with. (Cat's Cradle)

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## Lord Macbeth

^
Wait, we were in London...how can we be in NYC?

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## MANICHAEAN

About an hour before sunset, a man who was travelling on foot entered the little town. It was difficult to encounter a wayfarer of more wretched appearance. He was a man of medium stature, thickset and robust, in the prime of life. (Les Miserables).

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## Lord Macbeth

Now is the winter of our discontent; (Richard III) under the brown fog of a winter dawn, a crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. (The Waste Land) It's strange. There's your life. You begin it, feeling that it's something so precious and rare, so beautiful that it's like a sacred treasure. Now it's over, and it doesn't make any difference to anyone, and it isn't that they are indifferent, it's just that they don't know, they don't know what it means, that treasure of mine, and there's something about it that they should understand. (We The Living)

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. (Great Expectations) I'd often dreamed of going west to see the country, always vaguely planning and never taking off (On the Road)--the undiscovered country, from whose born no traveler returns. (Hamlet) 

As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den, and I laid me down in that place to sleep; and, as I slept, I dreamed a dream. (A Pilgrim's Progress) After my weary body I had rested, the way resumed I on the desert slope, so that the firm foot ever was the lower. (Dante's Inferno.) About an hour before sunset, a man who was travelling on foot entered the little town. It was difficult to encounter a wayfarer of more wretched appearance. He was a man of medium stature, thickset and robust, in the prime of life. (Les Miserables).

"I should concentrate on not losing your head." (Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead)

^That would be that "man travelling on foot" speaking to our narrator...or, anyway, that's how it is here.  :Wink: 

Finally, some dialogue and another character!  :Biggrin:  Let's keep it going, this is great, folks!

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## MANICHAEAN

Looking at him, one would have said that Nemesis had stolen the shield of Pallas, and shown him the Gorgon's head. Lord Arthur's finely-chiselled lips curled in petulant disdain.
"Good heaven!" said the Duchess to herself. "he is a sort of cheiropodist after all and I can only hope that he is a foreigner at any rate,as that wouldn't be quite so bad."

Oscar Wilde "Lord Arthur Savile's Crime."

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## Lord Macbeth

Interesting followup...OK, so now we have our still-no-gendered narrator, our stranger, and now a Duchess from amongst that large London crowd...



Now is the winter of our discontent; (Richard III) under the brown fog of a winter dawn, a crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. (The Waste Land) It's strange. There's your life. You begin it, feeling that it's something so precious and rare, so beautiful that it's like a sacred treasure. Now it's over, and it doesn't make any difference to anyone, and it isn't that they are indifferent, it's just that they don't know, they don't know what it means, that treasure of mine, and there's something about it that they should understand. (We The Living)

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. (Great Expectations) I'd often dreamed of going west to see the country, always vaguely planning and never taking off (On the Road)--the undiscovered country, from whose born no traveler returns. (Hamlet) 

As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den, and I laid me down in that place to sleep; and, as I slept, I dreamed a dream. (A Pilgrim's Progress) After my weary body I had rested, the way resumed I on the desert slope, so that the firm foot ever was the lower. (Dante's Inferno.) About an hour before sunset, a man who was travelling on foot entered the little town. It was difficult to encounter a wayfarer of more wretched appearance. He was a man of medium stature, thickset and robust, in the prime of life. (Les Miserables).

"I should concentrate on not losing your head." (Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead)

Looking at him, one would have said that Nemesis had stolen the shield of Pallas, and shown him the Gorgon's head. Lord Arthur's finely-chiselled lips curled in petulant disdain.

Good heaven!" said the Duchess to herself. "he is a sort of cheiropodist after all and I can only hope that he is a foreigner at any rate,as that wouldn't be quite so bad." (Lord Arthur Savile's Crime.)

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore." (The Raven)

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## MANICHAEAN

Rhonda Farr was very beautiful. She was wearing, for this occasion, all black, except a collar of white fur, light as thistledown, on her evening wrap, her eyes were cornflower blue, and she had the sort of skin an old rake dreams of.
She said nastily, without raising her head: "Thats ridiculous.'

Raymond Chandler "Blackmailers Dont Shoot"

Ha Ha. 
Have I got you off balance yet?
Regards
M

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## iamnobody

"The reason for your unreasonable treatment of my reason so enfeebles my reason to complain of your beauty." (Don Quixote) :Wink:

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## Lord Macbeth

> Rhonda Farr was very beautiful. She was wearing, for this occasion, all black, except a collar of white fur, light as thistledown, on her evening wrap, her eyes were cornflower blue, and she had the sort of skin an old rake dreams of.
> She said nastily, without raising her head: "Thats ridiculous.'
> 
> Raymond Chandler "Blackmailers Dont Shoot"
> 
> Ha Ha. 
> Have I got you off balance yet?
> Regards
> M


Oh, come on, how does that fit at all lol...  :Tongue:

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## MANICHAEAN

OK. I will behave myself. Try this;

Her face, a face of a child rather than that of a woman, seemed transparent, for so soft and clear was the skin; she kept her eyelids modestly lowered over her blue eyes, and her sweet mouth slightly parted. Count Felix raised his shaggy graying eyebrows. "Yes, I'm Cagliostro," he said, complacently smacking his thick lips.

Alexei Tolstoy 'Count Cagliostro"

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## iamnobody

"I'm not ashamed of my poverty... On the contrary, I look upon my poverty with pride. I'm poor, but noble," I went on mumbling. " "One can be poor and noble." (Notes from Underground)

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## kelby_lake

"Her voice is full of money," he said suddenly.
That was it. I’d never understood before. It was full of money — that was the inexhaustible charm that rose and fell in it, the jingle of it, the cymbals’ song of it ... high in a white palace the king’s daughter, the golden girl. (The Great Gatsby)

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## iamnobody

"How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
Wherever I turn, wherever I happen to look, I see the black ruins of my life, here,
where I've spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally." -The City


(I imagine this is *goden girl* speaking, bored with *golden life*)

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## MANICHAEAN

"In her own court it was firmly believed that Elizabeth was secretly married to Dudley -- it was high time, said the gossips; but in truth the international importance of her marriage was now partially obscured by that of the widowed Mary Queen of Scots. The match which Mary most wished for, and the most threatening to Elizabeth, was that with the vicious young lunatic, Don Carlos, the heir of Philip of Spain."

"The Courtship of Elizabeth" - M.A.Hume.

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## iamnobody

She reined up her horse inthe middle of the drawbridge, stood in the stirrups, pulled off her helmet and shook out her long golden hair. I ducked out of sight-I'm not sure why.

"Mine!" she barked, then she laughed a bit and led the column into the castle.-FOOL by Christopher Moore

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## MANICHAEAN

"The awful thing is that beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and the devil are fighting there and the battlefield is the heart of man. But a man always talks of his own ache."

The Brothers Karamazov- Fyodor Dostoyevsky

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