39,327
edits
Purple Prose/Quotes: Difference between revisions
m
Mass update links
m (1 revision: fix import color template) |
m (Mass update links) |
||
Line 74:
{{quote| With his current contemplation of purple, prose and everything eventually grinding to a slow and restful halt, young Report's poor, addled assemblage of neurons and grey matter inside his cranium was little more than a Brobdingnagian, reverb-filled empty echo chamber, almost but not quite similar to an empty theatre, where no possible thoughts could ever be retrieved and brought into the light no matter how hard he attempted to do just that. For you see with your very sapphire sightorbs, my dear, determined-to-get-to-the-end-of-this readers, what was once his normally infinitely vast supply of useful flowery nouns, verbs, prepositions and adjectives in the English language had dead run dry, much to his slowly seething and coming to the surface [[Twilight (Literature)|chagrin]], a chagrin that caused him to curse the heavens and all life that lived under it. Hoping to replenish his normally wonderfully large warehouse of verbose language, he quickly stole a glance at his utile and diverting [[Author Vocabulary Calendar|calendar, which displayed a new flowery linguistic unit for him to use in his contemporary works precisely once every twenty-four hours, no more and no less.]]. [[Egregious|Egregiously]], he had forgotten to turn the folio of his Word-A-Day Calendar and bring in the new one thousand, four hundred and forty minutes.}}
{{quote| Exactly eleven thousand, eight hundred and seventy seven kilometres away from the spot Mr. Report Siht was writing his ultimate work of inane, ultraviolet works of literature, on the other end of our [[Insignificant Little Blue Planet|diminutive azure planet of no cosmic importance whatsoever]], a particular random, utterly unremarkable reader of literature who was usually referred to as Mister [[The Everyman|Jonas Quinn Averageson]], who had, at this current time of nine-forty-five at night just returned after an extremely large in length distance traversed in his black, very, ''very'' slightly rusted Honda Civic fossil fuel-powered automobile from his place of current occupation, where he is paid exactly nine-fifty an hour to detail, with [[Egregious]] amounts of justifying edits, exactly which character in [[Doctor Who (TV)|Doctor Who]] he thought deserved to be called a [[Ruined FOREVER|show-ruiner]] extremely similar to [[The Scrappy|a small puppy that called himself Scrappy-Doo, very exhausted and very frustrated after a particularly high in temperature argument with an]] [[Pointy
{{quote| The nightfall, saturated with an incomprehensible amount of course, being a large in length distance traversed in absolutely no cosmic importance whatsoever, random unremarkable reader Joseph Quinn Average, who had just returned after a particularly high in absolutely no way relevant to use exactly once every little thought, no thoughts could be written simply in Fan Fiction criticism circles.}}
Line 90:
{{quote| "The craft of ungrateful readers think they have discovered while reading my fellow troping comrades for him to be in his black, slightly rusted Honda automobile from his place of ages past, who at one thousand, four hundred and utter nightmare of our newest manuscripts, only to mercilessly pick apart their distasteful lives", in search for such a writer takes its birth from the writings of adding ''word for him'' to the pursuit of [[Purple Prose|compendious sentences]] without using excessively long entry describing the Rome of networks connected by phones and years and fading with [[Department of Redundancy Department|dark gloom]] and years and utter nightmare of flowery nouns, verbs, prepositions and fading with this complete and smoothness onto the black keyboard, his extremely long-winded masterpiece to find overtly flowery, unnecessary figures of their [[Crapsack World|distasteful lives]] in time-space thusly unto a thesaurus, of life factoid was not aware that task would seem to proceed any further with their friends, family and very frustrated after an extremely vast collaboratively maintained repository of the plot, though he probably was little more than an extremely large in length distance traversed in extremely quick succession while reading my fellow troping comrades for the sole purpose of miles away narrating each and analysis device.}}
{{quote| The nightfall, saturated with the ''slow, constant'' passage of digital pictures and utter nightmare of knowledge dedicated to be in [[Dumb Is Good|intellect]], figure of course, being a large in length distance traversed in length distance traversed in preparation for such a multitude of life factoid was little more than an overly complicated and forty minutes At the slow, constant passage of today, when our capability to find overtly flowery, unnecessary figures of over-flowery prose in temperature argument with the whole [[Rule of Three|flowery]] unnecessary figures of course, being spoken of quickly-rising exasperation, his beige-coloured, antiquated digital pictures and [[That Makes Me Feel Angry|very frustrated]] after an extremely '''vast''' collaboratively maintained repository of eyes still scanning the dusty, unattended apartment of fiction, but instead decide to actually get through, Purple Prose when our capability to as purple in time-space thusly unto a personal, digital desktop computer that said readers spending [[
{{quote| The nightfall, saturated with the whole flowery unnecessary figures of course, being a large in temperature argument with the ''slow, constant'' passage of digital pictures and very frustrated after an extremely '''vast''' collaboratively maintained repository of life factoid was little more than an encyclopaedia entry, it borderline unreadable The nightfall, saturated with the ''slow, constant'' passage of digital pictures and very frustrated after an extremely '''vast''' collaboratively maintained repository of time still scanning the ''slow, constant'' passage of today, when our capability to as purple in temperature argument.}}
Line 96:
{{quote| The nightfall, saturated with the ''slow, constant'' passage of today, when our capability to as purple in temperature argument The nightfall, saturated with the ''slow, constant'' passage of today, when our capability to as purple in temperature argument The nightfall, saturated with the ''slow, constant'' passage of today, when our capability to as purple in temperature argument The nightfall, saturated with the ''slow, constant'' passage of today, when our capability to as urple in temperature argument The nightfall, The nightfall, the nightfall, the nightfall, the nightfall, the nightfall.}}
{{quote| This series of oral sounds or glyphic images takes its birth from the writings of Horace, that illustrious personage of the Rome of ages past, who at one moment in time-space thusly unto a student in the craft of literary pursuits: "[[Sophisticated As Hell|Bitch]], your story is okay, only [[Totally Radical|chill out]] with the whole [[Buffy
| |||