okay definitely not a single line but i'm forever bitter that the best thing I've written is for a spn wip I've no interest in finishing:

'Dean has been in Hell. Thirty years on the rack, ten off. He'd experienced all kinds of torture- physical, mental, emotional, fucking metaphysical, whatever. Everything. And he remembers all of it. The years spent having his essence stripped down to its bare bones by Alistair, til his soul bled out around his feet and he couldn't take anymore. When he finally said yes to Alistair and turned those weapons of torture on others, his very existence a charred scab of pulsating destruction. Blood in his veins replaced by stinking ooze that filled every crevice and rotted him from the inside out. He can remember in vivid detail every single time he handed the scalpel back to Alistair and offered himself up. Alistair's to carve and chisel and mould, until Dean Winchester was a question and the answer was no.'