scottish

Touch the stone,' said Beliah, 'and you will touch "reality", or what the ignorant of all ages think "reality" is. That kind of truth will kill you, man. You won't see morning! I have kept you all your life from such things as remorse, terror, pity. Touch the stone, and those same angels will change you into an old poor pathetic deluded dying creature. Hubert, a nurse has to shave you, your hand shakes so much. You know that don't you? You dribble at every orifice, Hubert. You've begun to smell this past year or two...' He suddenly howled as if I had actually touched the stone,'YOU WILL BE RAVAGED IN FIRES OF GRACE!'I heard Nurse McGregor in the next ward. 'Good evening,' came her cheerful voice to the looney who had strangled his sweetheart and then buried her in his garden. 'Is it cocoa tonight, or tea, or milk?"Beliah was weeping. Outside the eaves dripped. The whole earth was drenched with the grief of Beliah. He wept inside me. I felt his marvellous tears on my face.

Scotland consistently produces world-class writers.

Many existing top 20 Scottish writers have flourished in part because of good turns done by institutions, arts community, libraries and bookshops.

One of Scotland's most important cultural exports - stories.

You can only chase a butterfly for so long.

He poured a splash of liquid into a second cup. __ome in and warm yerself by the fire._ Ariana walked deeper into the room, toward the glow of the hearth. It__ heat enveloped her skin and eased away the chill with such expediency, she almost sighed. Connor appeared beside her with a metal cup extended. __ canna sleep often myself._ She closed her fingers around the cool surface and glanced at the dark liquid within. A sharp scent hit her nostrils. __hisky,_ Connor said. He was perfection in the firelight. Shadows etched his jaw while the light softened his face, his lips. The powerful lines of his chest were visible at the neck of his leine, as well as a dark peppering of small curling black hairs. __hisky,_ Ariana said with a forced stare at the cup instead of him. __f course. I drink this all the time._ __ye, I knew that about ye. When I first saw ye, I thought, __ow there__ a lass who can handle her whisky.__ Connor winked at her with disarming playfulness. __t__l do ye some good. Take off the chill and settle yer thoughts._ __hy do you assume my thoughts are unsettled?_ she asked. He took a swallow from his cup. __ecause sleep comes easily to those without weight on their minds._ Ariana took a careful sip from her own cup, the way she__ seen men at the card tables drink. The liquid burned like sin down her throat and caught in her chest. She gritted her teeth and swallowed hard several times to keep from sputtering. Though she__ hoped to keep her reaction discreet, the grin on Connor__ face told her he saw through her guise. __t__ good._ Her voice came out in a croak and Connor laughed. It was a warm, rich sound and she found it terribly pleasing. His eyes crinkled. __ow that we__e discovered yer love of whisky, why dinna ye tell me what__ got yer thoughts heavy?

I canna let you die like Da,_ he said softly. __nd yet ye canna let me live,_ she replied.

For me, writing stories set, well, wherever they're best set, is a form of cultural curiosity that is uniquely Scottish - we're famous for travelling in search of adventure.

The website increases my excitement when I read, __ark, the pies are calling!_ My excitement is short-lived, however. I read the page again and realize that it is __ipes_ that are calling, not __ies_ as I had hoped. I am disappointed. I personally react better to the call of pies.

The sparkle and morning-freshness of the shop, and the butter-conjuring girl, formed a mind-picture which accompanied the whole of my youth.(about the Buttercup Dairy)

To us children he (Mr Ewing) was our very own __r Chips_ and invariably we would each receive half a crown whenever we encountered him on his afternoon walk. If we were particularly lucky, he would send us to the __ig House_ for ice-cream _ a rare treat in the early 1950s

For your next act, please don't pull any rabbits out of my... well, hat."....He licked playfully at her mouth. "And ya can't call my manhood 'rabbit'.At least give it a manly name I can brag about.

Her eyes widened, convinced by the size of it that his shaft was fully erect. She blinked several times. No, she was wrong. The bulge moved, growing as she watched it."Not that I mind ya staring, love, but I've got an appointment I must keep.

Emotions like these didn't happen to regular, everyday people. They couldn't or else the entire world would be fornicating all the time.

My energies have been drained.Masturbating too much will do that.

Damn, I would give anything to see that man naked," Charlotte whispered. "How could you only say he was 'all right'?

For your next act, please don't pull any rabbits out of my... well, hat."....He licked playfully at her mouth. "And ya can't call my manhood 'rabbit'.

There's nothing sweet about me, love," he said.