Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:26:35

Excerpt #1, from Japanese Fairy Tales, by Yei Theodora Ozaki

…Then she set to work to make the winter clothes for the three of them. She set up her simple wooden spinning-wheel and spun the thread before she began to weave the stuffs. In the intervals of her work she directed the little girl’s games and taught her to read the old stories of her country. Thus did the wife find consolation in work during the lonely days of her husband’s absence. While the time was thus slipping quickly by in the quiet home, the husband finished his business and returned. It would have been difficult for any one who did not know the man well to recognize him. He had traveled day after day, exposed to all weathers, for about a month altogether, and was sunburnt to bronze, but his fond wife and child knew him at a glance, and flew to meet him from either side, each catching hold of one of his sleeves in their eager greeting. Both the man and his wife rejoiced to find each other well. It seemed a very long time to all till—the mother and child helping—his straw sandals were untied, his large umbrella hat taken off, and he was again in their midst in the old familiar sitting-room that had been so empty while he was away. As soon as they had sat down on the white mats, the father opened a bamboo basket that he had brought in with him, and took out a beautiful doll and a lacquer box full of cakes….

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Excerpt #2, from Gallipoli Diary, Volume 1, by Ian Hamilton

…evening sun. The enemy let us slip off without shot fired. The last boat-load got aboard the Goliath at 4 p.m., but they had forgotten some of their kit, so the Bluejackets rowed ashore as they might to Southsea pier and brought it off for them–and again no shot fired! Hove to off Cape Helles at quarter past five. Joyous confirmation of Sedd-el-Bahr capture and our lines run straight across from “X” to Morto Bay, but a very sad postscript now to that message: Doughty Wylie has been killed leading the sally from the beach. The death of a hero strips victory of her wings. Alas, for Doughty Wylie! Alas, for that faithful disciple of Charles Gordon; protector of the poor and of the helpless; noblest of those knights ever ready to lay down their lives to uphold the fair fame of England. Braver soldier never drew sword. He had no hatred of the enemy. His spirit did not need that ugly stimulant. Tenderness and pity filled his heart and yet he had the overflowing enthusiasm and contempt of death which alone can give troops the volition to attack when they have been crouching so long under a pitiless fire. Doughty Wylie was no flash-in-the-pan V.C. winner. He was a steadfast hero. Years ago, at Aleppo, the mingled chivalry and daring with which he placed his own body as a shield between the Turkish soldiery and their victims during a time of massacre made him admired even by the Moslems. Now; as he would have wished to…

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Excerpt #3, from Robot nemesis, by E. E. Smith

…immune, and I don’t think they can, as I have so adjusted the screen that it is now absorbing, instead of radiating. “Tell the captain to put the ship into heaviest possible battle order, everything full on, as soon as the men can handle themselves. Then I want to make a few suggestions.” “What happened, anyway?” the Communications Officer, semi-conscious now, was demanding. “Something hit me and tore my brain all apart–I couldn’t think, couldn’t do a thing. My mind was all chewed up by curly pinwheels….” Throughout the vast battleship of space men raved briefly in delirium; but, the cause removed, recovery was rapid and complete. Martin explained matters to the captain, that worthy issued orders, and soon the flagship had in readiness all her weapons, both of defense and of offense. “Doctor Stone, who knows more about the automatons than does any other human being, will tell us what to do next,” the Flight Director said. “The first thing to do is to locate them,” Stone, now temporary commander, stated crisply. “They have taken over at least one of our vessels, probably one close to us, so as to be near the center of the formation. Radio room, put out tracers on wave point oh oh two seven one….” He went on to give exact and highly technical instructions as to the tuning of the detectors….

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Excerpt #4, from Japanese Literature, by Epiphanius Wilson

…Tô-no-Chiûjiô. “I have only just now discovered,” continued he, “how difficult it is to meet with a fair creature, of whom one can say, ‘This is, indeed, the one; here is, at last, perfection.’ There are, indeed, many who fascinate; many who are ready with their pens, and who, when occasion may require, are quick at repartee. But how often such girls as these are conceited about their own accomplishments, and endeavor unduly to disparage those of others! There are again some who are special pets of their parents, and most jealously watched over at home. Often, no doubt, they are pretty, often graceful; and frequently they will apply themselves with effect to music and to poetry, in which they may even attain to special excellence. But then, their friends will keep their drawbacks in the dark, and eulogize their merits to the utmost. If we were to give full credence to this exaggerated praise, we could not but fail in every single instance to be more or less disappointed.” So saying Tô-no-Chiûjiô paused, and appeared as if he were ashamed of having such an experience, when Genji smilingly remarked, “Can any one of them, however, exist without at least one good point?” “Nay, were there any so little favored as that, no one would ever be misled at all!” replied Tô-no-Chiûjiô, and he continued, "In my opinion, the most and the least favored are in the same proportion. I…

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Excerpt #5, from Against the Grain, by J.K. Huysmans

…others. What a monotonous storehouse of fields and trees! What a banal agency of mountains and seas! There is not one of her inventions, no matter how subtle or imposing it may be, which human genius cannot create; no Fontainebleau forest, no moonlight which a scenic setting flooded with electricity cannot produce; no waterfall which hydraulics cannot imitate to perfection; no rock which pasteboard cannot be made to resemble; no flower which taffetas and delicately painted papers cannot simulate. There can be no doubt about it: this eternal, driveling, old woman is no longer admired by true artists, and the moment has come to replace her by artifice. Closely observe that work of hers which is considered the most exquisite, that creation of hers whose beauty is everywhere conceded the most perfect and original–woman. Has not man made, for his own use, an animated and artificial being which easily equals woman, from the point of view of plastic beauty? Is there a woman, whose form is more dazzling, more splendid than the two locomotives that pass over the Northern Railroad lines? One, the Crampton, is an adorable, shrill-voiced blonde, a trim, gilded blonde, with a large, fragile body imprisoned in a glittering corset of copper, and having the long, sinewy lines of a cat. Her…

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Excerpt #6, from Utilitarianism, by John Stuart Mill

…it is disinterested, is always in the mind itself; and the notion, therefore, of the transcendental moralists must be, that this sanction will not exist in the mind unless it is believed to have its root out of the mind; and that if a person is able to say to himself, That which is restraining me, and which is called my conscience, is only a feeling in my own mind, he may possibly draw the conclusion that when the feeling ceases the obligation ceases, and that if he find the feeling inconvenient, he may disregard it, and endeavour to get rid of it. But is this danger confined to the utilitarian morality? Does the belief that moral obligation has its seat outside the mind make the feeling of it too strong to be got rid of? The fact is so far otherwise, that all moralists admit and lament the ease with which, in the generality of minds, conscience can be silenced or stifled. The question, Need I obey my conscience? is quite as often put to themselves by persons who never heard of the principle of utility, as by its adherents. Those whose conscientious feelings are so weak as to allow of their asking this question, if they answer it affirmatively, will not do so because they believe in the transcendental theory, but because of the external sanctions. It is not necessary, for the present purpose, to decide whether the feeling of duty is innate or implanted. Assuming it to be innate, it is…

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Excerpt #7, from Remarks, by Bill Nye

…across the street and pizen yourself with some real old Mormon Valley tan, made last week from ground feed and prussic acid?” I told him that I had just been to dinner, and the doctor had forbidden my drinking any more, and that I had promised several people on their death beds never to touch liquor, and besides, I had just taken a large drink, so he would have to excuse me. But in Maine none of these common styles of invitation prevail. It is all shrouded in mystery. You give the sign of distress to any member in good standing, pound three times on the outer gate, give two hard kicks and one soft one on the inner door, give the password, “Rutherford B. Hayes,” turn to the left, through a dark passage, turn the thumbscrew of a mysterious gas fixture 90 deg. to the right, holding the goblet of the encampment under the gas fixture, then reverse the thumbscrew, shut your eyes, insult your digester, leave twenty-five cents near the gas fixture, and hunt up the nearest cemetery, so that you will not have to be carried very far. If a man really wants to drink himself into a drunkard’s grave, he can certainly save time by going to Maine. Those desiring the most prompt and vigorous style of jim-jams at cut rates will do well to examine Maine goods before going elsewhere. Let a man spend a week in Boston, where the Maine liquor law, I understand, is not in force, and then, with no warning whatever, be taken into the heart of Maine; let him land there a stranger…

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Excerpt #8, from Peter Pan, by J. M. Barrie

…He regretted now that he had given the birds of the island such strange names that they are very wild and difficult of approach. There was no other course but to press forward in redskin fashion, at which happily he was an adept. But in what direction, for he could not be sure that the children had been taken to the ship? A light fall of snow had obliterated all footmarks; and a deathly silence pervaded the island, as if for a space Nature stood still in horror of the recent carnage. He had taught the children something of the forest lore that he had himself learned from Tiger Lily and Tinker Bell, and knew that in their dire hour they were not likely to forget it. Slightly, if he had an opportunity, would blaze the trees, for instance, Curly would drop seeds, and Wendy would leave her handkerchief at some important place. The morning was needed to search for such guidance, and he could not wait. The upper world had called him, but would give no help. The crocodile passed him, but not another living thing, not a sound, not a movement; and yet he knew well that sudden death might be at the next tree, or stalking him from behind. He swore this terrible oath: “Hook or me this time.” Now he crawled forward like a snake, and again erect, he darted across a space on which the moonlight played, one finger on his lip and his dagger at the ready. He was frightfully happy….

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Excerpt #9, from Mirrors of Moscow, by Louise Stevens Bryant

…soon have such sinister work to do. The last time I met Peters he was living in Tashkent which is the capital of the Province of Turkestan. He had even more sweeping powers than an ordinary governor, since he was the most important revolutionary official in a community not yet settled down to normal life. I also met the new Madame Peters. The English wife divorced him at the time of the terror. The second Madame Peters was a very pretty, redheaded Russian who had been a teacher and who still worked at her profession. They lived in a single room, shared a dining room with twenty others and were poorly dressed. When we discussed this point, Peters bitterly denounced several Soviet officials who, he said, were “living soft.” “A revolutionist cannot expect to force privations on other people if he is not willing to be an example of self-sacrifice,” he declared. He had become known almost as a conservative among the Left-Communists because he had refused to close the Mohammedan bazaars, saying these people were not ready for Communism. His public trials were attended by large crowds and proved of great educational value in a very unenlightened community. I found him much older. He seemed to have lived thirty years in three….

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Excerpt #10, from An Introduction to the History of Science, by Walter Libby

…countries farther north; while stars always above the horizon in northern countries are seen to set from countries to the south. Consequently the earth is not only spherical but also not large; otherwise this phenomenon would not present itself on so limited a change of position on the part of the observer. “It seems, therefore, not incredible that the region about the Pillars of Hercules [Gibraltar] is connected with that of India, and that there is thus only one ocean.” It is known that this passage from The Philosopher influenced Columbus in his undertaking to reach the Orient by sailing west from the coast of Spain. We must pass over Aristotle’s observation of a relationship (homology) between the arms of man, the forelegs of quadrupeds, the wings of birds, and the pectoral fins of fishes, as well as many other truths to which his genius for generalization led him. In the field of botany Aristotle had a wide knowledge of natural phenomena, and raised general questions as to mode of propagation, nourishment, relation of plants to animals, etc. His pupil and lifelong friend, and successor as leader of the Peripatetic school of philosophy, Theophrastus, combined a knowledge of mathematics, astronomy, botany, and mineralogy. His History of Plants describes about five hundred species. At the same time he treats the general principles of botany,…

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Excerpt #11, from Anna Karenina, by graf Leo Tolstoy

…heart rejoicing at the depth of his love for her, shown now in his jealousy. “The most awful part of it all is that you’re just as you always are, and especially now when to me you’re something sacred, and we’re so happy, so particularly happy—and all of a sudden a little wretch…. He’s not a little wretch; why should I abuse him? I have nothing to do with him. But why should my, and your, happiness….” “Do you know, I understand now what it’s all come from,” Kitty was beginning. “Well, what? what?” “I saw how you looked while we were talking at supper.” “Well, well!” Levin said in dismay. She told him what they had been talking about. And as she told him, she was breathless with emotion. Levin was silent for a space, then he scanned her pale and distressed face, and suddenly he clutched at his head. “Katya, I’ve been worrying you! Darling, forgive me! It’s madness! Katya, I’m a criminal. And how could you be so distressed at such idiocy?” “Oh, I was sorry for you.” “For me? for me? How mad I am!… But why make you miserable? It’s…

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Excerpt #12, from The Odyssey, by Homer

…but even so, for all my sorrow I would not let her come near the blood till I had asked my questions of Teiresias. “Then came also the ghost of Theban Teiresias, with his golden sceptre in his hand. He knew me and said, ‘Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, why, poor man, have you left the light of day and come down to visit the dead in this sad place? Stand back from the trench and withdraw your sword that I may drink of the blood and answer your questions truly.’ “So I drew back, and sheathed my sword, whereon when he had drank of the blood he began with his prophecy. “‘You want to know,’ said he, ‘about your return home, but heaven will make this hard for you. I do not think that you will escape the eye of Neptune, who still nurses his bitter grudge against you for having blinded his son. Still, after much suffering you may get home if you can restrain yourself and your companions when your ship reaches the Thrinacian island, where you will find the sheep and cattle belonging to the sun, who sees and gives ear to everything. If you leave these flocks unharmed and think of nothing but of getting home, you may yet after much hardship reach Ithaca; but if you harm them, then I forewarn you of the destruction both of your ship and of your men. Even though you may yourself escape, you will return in bad plight after losing all your men, [in another man’s ship, and you will find trouble in your…

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