Here are my 7 lines, from the middle of my current WIP.
Deanna’s fingers twitched the edge of the blanket. She stared down at its patterns, as if they were a scrying bowl in which she could see her own past. “I had to beg to learn to fight,” she said. “I had to be the best at it. I had to prove that I deserved to learn, deserved to be my father’s heir. If I wasn't better than the boys, the best of the trainee guards, better than my cousin Garrick, I was useless.
“But all of you could fight. No one said you were just girls trying to do things you weren’t supposed to do. I had had to work so hard to just be allowed to pick up a sword and you all had it so easy. If I couldn’t beat you, just girls from a bunch of countries who had forgotten what war was like, what good was I? I had to win.”
And as a bonus, here's 7 lines from the 77th page of my last novel, (massive and ungainly, and on a querying break.)
Blaise looked at him and then down at his hand. “A gat-limb? What is that?”
“It’s a replacement.” Tom squeezed his arm. “This is a mine. Often people are injured, and with a replacement limb they can get back to work right away. I have one myself.” He bent and rolled up his pants. One skinny leg was lightly dusted with orange hair, but the other was bare and olive-toned. “The original was crushed in a cave in. But if you don’t work, well.” He glanced away down the tunnel, looking for the insects. “They need to get the gat-limbs from somewhere.”