Post here lines from your own story that you  particularily like.

A reader often remembers a line or two from a book they enjoyed. When they quote you, that promotes your work. Personally, I tend to remember lines that go to the nature of the work, or are fun & easy to remember or even a bit poetic.

I'll start with three from my story. (The Phoenix Diary is hard science fiction.)

“The consequences of the Big Bang should have flowed like rows of falling dominoes; the physical universe should be predictable. But it ain’t, because intelligent life forms are messing with it.” – Ambrose Phoenix

"Wait! The Ubilaz are from the stars?"
"Yes, but who isn’t?"

A harpist played with great sensitivity, the music blending around the conversations without disturbing them like water around wading birds.

“Hey, cheer up.  There’s a good chance you just saved my life.”

“Great.  There’s also a chance I just caused Roy Harper’s murder.”  - Frank Sullivan to Jasper Kravitz

This is a good idea. Here's one from Scales:

“Rescued,”
I said with a finger raised in correction and he laughed.
“Yes,
that sounds a lot better,” he said with a grin. “Got to remember
to cast myself as a good guy.”

“Ambassador,” she needed
words, the right words that would distract him or change his mind,
“it would be my honour to spar with you, but at the moment I am
busy.” Those probably weren't them.

A stray strand of stubborn sunlight
broke through the gathering clouds and reflected off Ben’s glass-like green
eyes, making them more striking than usual; making them almost other-worldly.

“Your grandmother forced us to have the union
dissolved. Fortunately for you, she died before anyone learned of your mother’s
pregnancy. If she hadn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Emperor Lazan
to his son, Zephtep ai Lazan

“It’s Corps HQ. It’s one of the most secure facilities
in the galaxy. . . I’m being dense again, aren’t I?” Ben suddenly recalled his
conversation with Zeph outside the courthouse the day of his hearing and Azar’s
state the night he came for Ben.

Jeremy cocked an eyebrow and smiled slightly.

“It’s one of your endearing qualities.”

Part of a
conversation between Ben and Jeremy.

“Kings, wizards, scared cooks, prophecies. Do you
have any idea how ludicrous what you just said sounds? We would probably be
laughing right now if it weren’t for the fact that, in a few hours, if I don’t
die, I may kill the man in the center of all this absurdity.”

Zephtep ai
Lazan to Jason MacAllister hours before the forced Noktu.

Is there a place on BC for short, sweet, verse?

Frankly, On Gaudy Night, not yet posted, is neither all that short, nor all that sweet. Here's the introduction: 

On Gaudy Night, at summer’s height,
it'd said that anyone with any sense is snug abed.

Hobgoblins, nasty things, cavort. Beware! 
As much as you might long to spy on them, forbear!
To cause distress, to damage, to destroy, to injure,
gives these fiends their greatest joy. 

The Pixies, on the other hand,
amuse themselves with gentler antics.
Mostly, they confuse.
Delusion is their penchant.
They delight in hocus-pocus. 

Therefore,
if despite my urgent warning to retire,
you insist to eavesdrop, 
if you’re foolish, if you can’t resist,
we’ll have ourselves a peek
at, hopefully, benign proceedings:
merrymakers, met to dance ... and dine.

Hello All,

Great thread.  Here are three quotes from Agony of The Gods:

The Apprentice trying to explain to the Enforcer how a heretic can challenge a God:

“When you’re already in Hell, the threat of being sent there has no power over you.”  

The Director discussing the Enforcer's early careeer:
"Never really stood out, but then again a mediocrity amongst mediocrities is not unusual."

Finally, the Enforcer realizing why the other Gods would be so concerned about one who kept his world secret:

It was strangely silly, yet somehow logical, that in a universe of paranoids paranoia would be suspicious. 

Twisted bodies covered the ground, a ghostly fog rising from the still forms. As though trying to reclaim life long-since lost, rotting bits of flesh and rags clung to pale bones. Corpses were piled on top of one another in an unholy tangle. Rats scampered over the midden and vanished down a large tunnel on the other side of the chamber.

A few of them had died recently. Their sightless, accusatory eyes bored into Terin. He jerked toward the tunnel. Sharp fragments of stone and bone pierced his feet with each step.

A cold wind blew from behind him, ruffling his sweat-soaked hair, cooling his fiery skin. Papers blew in it, most with music written on them in elegant lines.
 “Do you see what bringing him here did? All my work, gone.” The Red Priest said.
 “What, Rosso,” said the Fiddler. “I was meant to leave him there with the dead?”

 Harrmond shook his head. It was becoming hot again, hard to think. “Where am I?” he asked, turning around.
 Behind him was hell.

 At a table of ice they sat – two corpses so badly burned only blackened bone remained. One had a quill between its charred fingers. The other had a fiddle resting on its lap.

 “I told you he would scream,” the one with the quill said.
 And so he did.

Brandon smoked, smoked, smoked his cigarette. “Okay.” He re-crossed his legs. “Of course, you’re not a trained psychiatrist. Doctors Haufe and Goldflies, however, have diagnosed Professor Reichart as suffering from—how’d they put it?—‘monomaniac narcissism complicated by sociopathic fantasies’. ”

“Sounds like a writer. Perhaps he’ll commit a manuscript.”

—The Man Who Killed William Shakespeare
.........................................................................................

The boy bashed Major Havoc’s head against the ground.

“Stop!” cried the Major. “Urrp! Elp!”

Two more whacks of the pilot’s head into the hard-packed soil.

The boy raised the toy to eye-level again. “How do you feel now?”

“You are an idiot meat puppet of bone and blood, a lunatic fury dancing to the invisible conductor’s baton of violent omnivore genes,” gasped the Major, eyes wild.

The boy had to admit it, these new toys were made well. Windy, too.

—The Final Flight of Major Havoc
.........................................................................................

Professor Wilson, a gray-haired, peripatetic man in his early sixties, had once been asked what he thought of having children. He’d ruminated a moment, brushed his fiancée’s cheek with his lips and whispered, “A child, my dear, is the corpse of eros.”

—The Strange & Curious Tale of Professor Robert Howard Wilson  

"That's why I think we need a reunion," I said. "But I still think we should ease you into the family. No sudden surprises. No visits with two hundred relatives you don't know."

His eyes grew round, and his jaw dropped. "Two hundred?"

Janell and I burst out laughing.

"What do I call both you?" he asked, his voice quiet, his features stern.

"Mom One and Mom Two?" I joked.

Janell said, "She doesn't mean that."

Allen pretended to consider the names, then smiled his beautiful smile.

I hit the top of his head with a paper wad.

Everything was okay.

From my work in progress ~Nathaniel CopperPott and the Blacksmith's Son.

Who would have thought that magic would end on a Tuesday.~

The prosecutor began by turning to the jury and like a dirty rag he twisted out a tale of murder and deception.~

"Anyway I always get a nice tickle with the drunken ones. It's like having dinner with a fine barrel of wine. I sometimes rip open a barrel and dip them in grog for more of a kick. You should see their little faces dear brother. They most definitely looked startled, some even defecate. I put those back." ~the Left Giant

“So now I implore you my Lord, we must not execute him on the morrow. We must send him to the bowels of this purgatory and not to the afterlife. Once executed I fear the boy’s resolve to be so strong that his spirit will insurrect the creatures of the underworld and they shall rise up and spell certain doom to all.” The Goblin Keeper paused looked around and continued. “They will rise up challenging all that lives here and make sure we all die here. You see I fear the recourse in this matter. I have no power in sentence for the prisoners here at Blackheart. I can however counsel on what fate is imposed. Otherwise, once this is done I can only watch over the miscreants and keep your kingdoms safe. Mark my words, I know you love your son but heed this; the boy is pure in his deception and he belongs here for eternity not the afterlife. With that said, my belief is now known and my conscious is clear.

The Goblin seemingly exhausted from his speech to the King changed his grimace to a huge smile.

“Well… now, shall we move on so you can see your little beam of light?” ~Goblin Keeper

One, in particular, caught my eye. You know those movies where the girl and guy catch each other’s eyes and the soft music queues while they exchanged love sick looks across a crowded room?  That’s bullshit.  My reaction to this man was stronger than any connection I had ever felt, but it was completely sexual.  There was no music, except for the drastic beating of my heart, which was not soft at all.  He bit his lower lip and I clenched the dampness emanating between my legs.  Sex was real, tangible, visceral and primitive. Love was mystical, elusive, vague, and obscure.  Sex was atmospheric, but love was ethereal.  I chose sex every time. 

As one of the richest men in the Bimini Islands of
the Bahamas, ninety-nine-year old Casey Harmon had led a full and rewarding life
until he was personally assaulted inside his home during a burglary. And then
suddenly the millions of dollars and good days of life seemed shorter and more
limited than ever before.