Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:25:32

Excerpt #1, from Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen

…added, “which was my chief inducement to enter the ——shire. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintances Meryton had procured them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession—I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now.” “Indeed!” “Yes—the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere.” “Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?”…

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Excerpt #2, from The School and Society, by John Dewey

…making the school an organic whole, instead of a composite of isolated parts. The isolation of studies as well as of parts of the school system disappears. Experience has its geographical aspect, its artistic and its literary, its scientific and its historical sides. All studies arise from aspects of the one earth and the one life lived upon it. We do not have a series of stratified earths, one of which is mathematical, another physical, another historical, and so on. We should not live very long in any one taken by itself. We live in a world where all sides are bound together. All studies grow out of relations in the one great common world. When the child lives in varied but concrete and active relationship to this common world, his studies are naturally unified. It will no longer be a problem to correlate studies. The teacher will not have to resort to all sorts of devices to weave a little arithmetic into the history lesson, and the like. Relate the school to life, and all studies are of necessity correlated. Moreover, if the school is related as a whole to life as a whole, its various aims and ideals—culture, discipline, information, utility—cease to be variants, for one of which we must select one study and for another another. The growth of the child in the direction of social capacity and service, his larger and more vital union with life, becomes the unifying aim; and discipline, culture and information fall into…

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Excerpt #3, from The Satyricon — Complete, by Petronius Arbiter

…pitying head with my sharp knuckles. In tears, he sat upon the bed, while I applied each eye in turn, to the opening, filling myself up as with a dainty dish, with Eumolpus’ misfortunes, and gloating over their prolongation, when Bargates, agent for the building, called from his dinner, was carried into the midst of the brawl by two chair-men, for he had the gout. He carried on for some time against drunkards and fugitive slaves, in a savage tone and with a barbarous accent, and then, looking around and catching sight of Eumolpus, “What,” he exclaimed, “are you here, nay prince of poets? and these damned slaves don’t scatter at once and stop their brawling!” (Then, whispering in Eumolpus’ ear,) “My bedfellow’s got an idea that she’s finer-haired than I am; lampoon her in a poem, if you think anything of me, and make ‘er ashamed.” CHAPTER THE NINETY-SEVENTH. Eumolpus was speaking privately with Bargates, when a crier attended by a public slave entered the inn, accompanied by a medium-sized crowd of outsiders. Waving a torch that gave out more smoke than light, he announced: “Strayed from the baths, a short time ago, a boy about sixteen years of age, curly headed, a minion, handsome, answers to the name of Giton. One thousand sesterces reward will be paid to anyone bringing him back or giving information as to his whereabouts.” Ascyltos, dressed in a tunic of many colors, stood not far from the crier, holding out a…

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Excerpt #4, from A Floating City, and The Blockade Runners, by Jules Verne

…made his fortune, and that at twenty-five he is already too old to begin the struggle. Among these adventurers, inventors, and fortune-hunters, Dean Pitferge pointed out to me some singularly interesting characters. Here was a chemist, a rival of Dr. Liebig, who pretended to have discovered the art of condensing all the nutritious parts of a cow into a meat-tablet, no larger than a five-shilling piece. He was going to coin money out of the cattle of the Pampas. Another, the inventor of a portable motive-power—a steam horse in a watch-case—was going to exhibit his patent in New England. Another, a Frenchman from the “Rue Chapon,” was carrying to America 30,000 cardboard dolls, which said “papa” with a very successful Yankee accent, and he had no doubt but that his fortune was made. But besides these originals, there were still others whose secrets we could not guess; perhaps among them was some cashier flying from his empty cash-box, and a detective making friends with him, only waiting for the end of the passage to take him by the collar; perhaps also we might have found in this crowd clever genii, who always find people ready to believe in them, even when they advocate the affairs of “The Oceanic Company for lighting Polynesia with gas,” or “The Royal Society for making incombustible coal.” But at this moment my attention was attracted by the entrance of a young…

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Excerpt #5, from Esperanto Self

…apple | pomo | poh’mo apricot | abrikoto | ahbree-ko’toh ash | frakseno | frahk-seh’noh asparagus | asparago | ahspah-rah’go banana | banano | bahnah’no bark | arbŝelo | ahrb-sheh’lo beans | faboj | fah’boy beech (-tree) | fago | fah’go beetroot | beto | beh’toh birch (-tree) | betulo | beh-too’lo blackberry | rubuso | roo-boo’so bouquet | bukedo | bookeh’do branch | branĉo | brahn’cho buttercup | ranunkulo | rahnoon-koo’lo cabbage | brasiko | brahsee’ko carrot | karoto | kahroh’toh cauliflower | florbrasiko | flohr’brah-see’ko celery | celerio | tseh-lehree’oh cherry | ĉerizo | chehree’zo chestnut (edible) | kaŝtano | kashtah’no chrysanthemum | krizantemo | krizahn-teh’mo…

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Excerpt #6, from Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight, by Richard Morris

…Þay la3ed & layked longe, At þe last scho con hym kysse, 1556 [F] Hir leue fayre con scho fonge, & went hir waye Iwysse. [Sidenote A: “It is a great pleasure to me,” says Sir Gawayne, "to hear you talk,] [Sidenote B: but I cannot undertake the task to expound true-love and tales of arms.] [Sidenote C: I will, however, act according to your will,] [Sidenote D: and ever be your servant."] [Sidenote E: Thus Gawayne defends himself.] [Sidenote F: The lady having kissed the knight, takes leave of him.] [Footnote 1: tornayle (?).] XVII. [A] Then ruþes hym þe renk, & ryses to þe masse, & siþen hor diner wat3 dy3t & derely serued. [Fol. 112.] 1560 [B] Þe lede with þe ladye3 layked alle day, Bot þe lorde ouer þe londe3 launced ful ofte, Swe3 his vncely swyn, þat swynge3 bi þe bonkke3, [C] & bote þe best of his brache3 þe bakke3 in sunder; 1564 Þer he bode in his bay, tel[1] bawe-men hit breken,…

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Excerpt #7, from Walden, and On The Duty Of Civil Disobedience, by Henry David Thoreau

…townsmen with earthen ware, and left descendants to succeed him. Neither were they rich in worldly goods, holding the land by sufferance while they lived; and there often the sheriff came in vain to collect the taxes, and “attached a chip,” for form’s sake, as I have read in his accounts, there being nothing else that he could lay his hands on. One day in midsummer, when I was hoeing, a man who was carrying a load of pottery to market stopped his horse against my field and inquired concerning Wyman the younger. He had long ago bought a potter’s wheel of him, and wished to know what had become of him. I had read of the potter’s clay and wheel in Scripture, but it had never occurred to me that the pots we use were not such as had come down unbroken from those days, or grown on trees like gourds somewhere, and I was pleased to hear that so fictile an art was ever practiced in my neighborhood. The last inhabitant of these woods before me was an Irishman, Hugh Quoil (if I have spelt his name with coil enough,) who occupied Wyman’s tenement,—Col. Quoil, he was called. Rumor said that he had been a soldier at Waterloo. If he had lived I should have made him fight his battles over again. His trade here was that of a ditcher. Napoleon went to St. Helena; Quoil came to Walden Woods. All I know of him is tragic. He was a man of manners, like one who had seen the world, and was capable of more civil speech than you could well attend to. He wore a…

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Excerpt #8, from The Topaz Story Book: Stories and Legends of Autumn, Hallowe’en, and

…Dark Cloud. She was the Moon. Their little children were the stars that played all over Skyland. All this time, Little Turtle was taking care of Skyland. The animals below called her, She Who Takes Care of Skyland. And she was very happy, because she was doing her good deed. Some of the animals became jealous of Little Turtle,–especially the Deer, who was so proud of his antlers. One day, Deer said to Rainbow: “Rainbow, please take me up to Skyland where Little Turtle lives.” Rainbow did not know whether it would be quite right to take Deer up to Little Turtle’s house, but he said: “In the winter, when I rest upon the big mountain by the lake, then I will take you.” This made the Deer glad. He did not tell anyone about the promise of Rainbow. All winter long, he waited and watched near the big mountain for Rainbow to come; but Rainbow did not come to him. In the spring, one day, Deer saw Rainbow beside the lake. “Rainbow,” he asked, “why did you not keep your promise to me?” Rainbow made him another promise. “Come to me by the lake, when you see me in the thick fog,” he said. The Deer kept this promise a secret, too; because he hoped to go to Skyland alone. Day after day, he waited beside the lake. One day,…

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Excerpt #9, from Around the World on a Bicycle Volume II, by Thomas Stevens

…dwindled to mere rivulets, and the narrow, miry trail through the melting snow has become dry and smooth enough to ride wherever the grade permits. The hills are verdant with the green young life of early spring, and are clothed in one of nature’s prettiest costumes–a costume of seal-brown rocks and green turf studded with a profusion of blue and yellow flowers. Shahriffabad is reached early in the afternoon, and the threatening aspect of the changed weather forbids going any farther today. Shortly after taking up my quarters in the chapar-khana, a party of Persian travellers appear upon the scene, and with them a fussy little man in big round spectacles and semi-European clothes. Scarcely have they had time to alight and seek out quarters than the little man makes his appearance at my menzil door in all the glory of a crimson velvet dressing-cap and blue slippers, and beaming gladsomely through his moon-like spectacles, he comes forward and without further ceremony shakes hands. “Some queer little French professor, geologist, entomologist, or something, wandering about the country in search of scientific knowledge,” is the instinctive conclusion I arrive at the moment he appears; and my greeting of “bonjour, monsieur,” is quite as involuntary as the conclusion. “Paruski ni?” he replies, arching his eyebrows and smiling. “Paruski ni; Ingilis.”…

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Excerpt #10, from Arms and the Man, by Bernard Shaw

…(A distant shot breaks the quiet of the night outside. She starts, listening; and two more shots, much nearer, follow, startling her so that she scrambles out of bed, and hastily blows out the candle on the chest of drawers. Then, putting her fingers in her ears, she runs to the dressing-table and blows out the light there, and hurries back to bed. The room is now in darkness: nothing is visible but the glimmer of the light in the pierced ball before the image, and the starlight seen through the slits at the top of the shutters. The firing breaks out again: there is a startling fusillade quite close at hand. Whilst it is still echoing, the shutters disappear, pulled open from without, and for an instant the rectangle of snowy starlight flashes out with the figure of a man in black upon it. The shutters close immediately and the room is dark again. But the silence is now broken by the sound of panting. Then there is a scrape; and the flame of a match is seen in the middle of the room.) RAINA. (crouching on the bed). Who’s there? (The match is out instantly.) Who’s there? Who is that? A MAN’S VOICE. (in the darkness, subduedly, but threateningly). Sh—sh! Don’t call out or you’ll be shot. Be good; and no harm will happen to you. (_She…

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Excerpt #11, from Autobiography of a Yogi, by Paramahansa Yogananda

…“Wisdom from the hermitage, I suppose! But I see you have left Benares.” Ananta’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction; he yet hoped to secure my pinions in the family nest. “My sojourn in Benares was not in vain! I found there everything my heart had been longing for! You may be sure it was not your pundit or his son!” Ananta joined me in reminiscent laughter; he had had to admit that the Benares “clairvoyant” he selected was a shortsighted one. “What are your plans, my wandering brother?” “Jitendra persuaded me to Agra. We shall view the beauties of the Taj Mahal {FN11-2} here,” I explained. “Then we are going to my newly-found guru, who has a hermitage in Serampore.” Ananta hospitably arranged for our comfort. Several times during the evening I noticed his eyes fixed on me reflectively. “I know that look!” I thought. “A plot is brewing!” The denouement took place during our early breakfast. “So you feel quite independent of Father’s wealth.” Ananta’s gaze was innocent as he resumed the barbs of yesterday’s conversation. “I am conscious of my dependence on God.” "Words are cheap! Life has shielded you thus far! What a plight if you were forced to look to the Invisible Hand for your food and…

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Excerpt #12, from Planet of the Damned, by Harry Harrison

…Dis. Brion threw it aside, along with the clothing. Nude, pierced, bloody, the corpse lay before him. In every external physical detail the man was human. Brion’s theory was becoming more preposterous with each discovery. If the magter weren’t alien, how could he explain their complete lack of emotions? A mutation of some kind? He didn’t see how it was possible. There had to be something alien about the dead man before him. The future of a world rested on this flimsy hope. If Telt’s lead to the bombs proved to be false, there would be no hope left at all. Lea was still unconscious when he looked at her again. There was no way of telling how long the coma would last. He would probably have to waken her out of it, but he didn’t want to do it too early. It took an effort to control his impatience, even though he knew the drug needed time in which to work. He finally decided on at least a minimum of an hour before he should try to disturb her. That would be noon–twelve hours before destruction. One thing he should do was to get in touch with Professor-Commander Krafft. Maybe it was being defeatist, but he had to make sure that they had a way off this planet if the mission failed. Krafft had installed a relay radio that would forward calls from his personal…

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