Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:25:49

Excerpt #1, from Anthem, by Ayn Rand

…Then we saw that the eyes of International 4-8818 were full to the lids with tears they dared not drop. They whispered, and their voice trembled, so that their words lost all shape: “The will of the Council is above all things, for it is the will of our brothers, which is holy. But if you wish it so, we shall obey you. Rather shall we be evil with you than good with all our brothers. May the Council have mercy upon both our hearts!” Then we walked away together and back to the Home of the Street Sweepers. And we walked in silence. Thus did it come to pass that each night, when the stars are high and the Street Sweepers sit in the City Theatre, we, Equality 7-2521, steal out and run through the darkness to our place. It is easy to leave the Theatre; when the candles are blown out and the Actors come onto the stage, no eyes can see us as we crawl under our seat and under the cloth of the tent. Later, it is easy to steal through the shadows and fall in line next to International 4-8818, as the column leaves the Theatre. It is dark in the streets and there are no men about, for no men may walk through the City when they have no mission to walk there. Each night, we run to the ravine, and we remove the stones which we have piled upon the iron grill to hide it from the men. Each…

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Excerpt #2, from Champions of the Fleet, by Edward Fraser

…and preparations for large encampments next summer in the vicinity of the French Channel ports—at Dunkirk and Calais, Havre and St. Malo, and in Lower Brittany on the shores of Quiberon Bay. In every county of England and Wales the local authorities were getting ready for the early muster of the new militia levies—now, for the first time in our history, to be formed into regiments. Along the coasts of Sussex and Kent, from Selsea to beyond Dungeness and Hythe, where the open coast-line might seem to invite attack—at Littlehampton, Brighton, Blatchington, Seaford, Hastings, Rye, Hythe, Folkestone—the sites for four- and six-gun batteries were being pegged out by military engineers, to be thrown up by local labourers under expert supervision. At every point along the seashore from Spurn Head to the Lizard the beacons were being watched night and day, while the local authorities of every seaboard district had standing orders to be ready, on the first alarm of a hostile landing, to transport the women and children in farm carts to the nearest towns, and drive inland the horses and sheep and cattle. We have to turn over many pages of the world’s history to get to the year that saw the Victory brought into the British Navy. The Seven Years’ War itself, the exigencies of which called the Victory into existence, is nowadays but a schoolbook term. Frederick the Great, in the year that the Victory first figures in the Navy Estimates, was the man of the…

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Excerpt #3, from Don Juan, by Baron George Gordon Byron Byron

…But I will fall at least as fell my hero; Nor reign at all, or as a monarch reign; Or to some lonely isle of gaolers go, With turncoat Southey for my turnkey Lowe. Sir Walter reign’d before me; Moore and Campbell Before and after; but now grown more holy, The Muses upon Sion’s hill must ramble With poets almost clergymen, or wholly; And Pegasus hath a psalmodic amble Beneath the very Reverend Rowley Powley, Who shoes the glorious animal with stilts, A modern Ancient Pistol—by the hilts? Then there’s my gentle Euphues, who, they say, Sets up for being a sort of moral me; He’ll find it rather difficult some day To turn out both, or either, it may be. Some persons think that Coleridge hath the sway; And Wordsworth has supporters, two or three; And that deep-mouth’d Boeotian ‘Savage Landor’ Has taken for a swan rogue Southey’s gander. John Keats, who was kill’d off by one critique,…

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Excerpt #4, from Great Britain and the American Civil War, by Ephraim Douglass Adams

…342.) It was not until September, 1863, that Stoeckl ventured to hope for a Northern reconquest of the South. I am indebted to Dr. Frank A. Golder, of Stanford University, for the use of his notes and transcripts covering all of the Russian diplomatic correspondence with the United States, 1860-1865. In the occasional use made of this material the English translation is mine.] [Footnote 72: Stoeckl reported that at a dinner with Lyons, at which he, Mercier and Seward were the guests, Seward had asserted that if Civil War came all foreign commerce with the South would be interrupted. To this Lyons protested that England could not get along without cotton and that she would secure it in one way or another. Seward made no reply. (Ibid., March 25-April 9, 1861, No. 810.)] [Footnote 73: Economist, January 12, 1861.] [Footnote 74: Ibid., February 23, 1861.] [Footnote 75: London Press, March 23, 1861. Cited in Littell’s Living Age, Vol. LXIX, p. 438.] [Footnote 76: Before Adams’ selection as Minister to England was decided upon, Sumner’s Massachusetts friends were urging him for the place. Longfellow was active in this interest. H.W. Longfellow, by Samuel Longfellow, Vol. II, pp. 412-13.] [Footnote 77: John Bright later declared "his conviction that the…

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Excerpt #5, from On the Trail of the Space Pirates, by Carey Rockwell

…brief moment he felt sick and then heard the roar of the pirate captain from the control deck. “By the rings of Saturn,” roared Coxine, “that was the best shot I’ve ever seen! Well done, Kid! All right, boarding crews! Man your boats and stand by to blast off!” While Coxine vocally lashed the members of the murderous crew into action, Tom tried to figure out some way to get to the radar deck unseen. Being assigned to the jet boat with Coxine, instead of Wallace, had been a lucky break and Tom wished for a little more of the same. Lining up with his boarding crew, he received his paralo-ray pistol and rifle from Gaillard, deftly stealing a second pistol while the gunnery officer’s back was turned. After hurriedly hiding the stolen gun, he slipped stealthily topside to the radar bridge. Reaching the hatch, he was about to open it, when he heard footsteps. He turned and saw a man walking toward him. It was Simms! “Where in the blasted universe is the jet-boat deck?” snarled Tom. He dropped his rifle on the deck and bent over to pick it up, hiding his face. “You’re on the wrong deck,” said Simms. “Two decks below. Get moving!” The pirate lieutenant hardly gave the cadet a glance as he brushed past…

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Excerpt #6, from A Journey to the Centre of the Earth, by Jules Verne

…of forty leagues. But these forty leagues were of hard, impenetrable granite! All these dreary and miserable reflections passed through my mind, before I attempted to answer my uncle’s question. “Why, what is the matter?” he cried. “Cannot you say whether you have slept well or not?” “I have slept very well,” was my reply, “but every bone in my body aches. I suppose that will lead to nothing.” “Nothing at all, my boy. It is only the result of the fatigue of the last few days–that is all.” “You appear–if I may be allowed to say so–to be very jolly this morning,” I said. “Delighted, my dear boy, delighted. Was never happier in my life. We have at last reached the wished-for port.” “The end of our expedition?” cried I, in a tone of considerable surprise. “No; but to the confines of that sea which I began to fear would never end, but go round the whole world. We will now tranquilly resume our journey by land, and once again endeavor to dive into the centre of the earth.” “My dear uncle,” I began, in a hesitating kind of way, "allow me to ask…

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Excerpt #7, from The Hound of the Baskervilles, by Arthur Conan Doyle

…“I don’t say now that he isn’t a crazy man,” said Sir Henry; “I can’t forget the look in his eyes when he ran at me this morning, but I must allow that no man could make a more handsome apology than he has done.” “Did he give any explanation of his conduct?” “His sister is everything in his life, he says. That is natural enough, and I am glad that he should understand her value. They have always been together, and according to his account he has been a very lonely man with only her as a companion, so that the thought of losing her was really terrible to him. He had not understood, he said, that I was becoming attached to her, but when he saw with his own eyes that it was really so, and that she might be taken away from him, it gave him such a shock that for a time he was not responsible for what he said or did. He was very sorry for all that had passed, and he recognized how foolish and how selfish it was that he should imagine that he could hold a beautiful woman like his sister to himself for her whole life. If she had to leave him he had rather it was to a neighbour like myself than to anyone else. But in any case it was a blow to him and it would take him some time before he could prepare himself to meet it. He would withdraw all opposition upon his part if I…

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Excerpt #8, from A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens

…“Monseigneur, not yet.” CHAPTER IX. The Gorgon’s Head It was a heavy mass of building, that chateau of Monsieur the Marquis, with a large stone courtyard before it, and two stone sweeps of staircase meeting in a stone terrace before the principal door. A stony business altogether, with heavy stone balustrades, and stone urns, and stone flowers, and stone faces of men, and stone heads of lions, in all directions. As if the Gorgon’s head had surveyed it, when it was finished, two centuries ago. Up the broad flight of shallow steps, Monsieur the Marquis, flambeau preceded, went from his carriage, sufficiently disturbing the darkness to elicit loud remonstrance from an owl in the roof of the great pile of stable building away among the trees. All else was so quiet, that the flambeau carried up the steps, and the other flambeau held at the great door, burnt as if they were in a close room of state, instead of being in the open night-air. Other sound than the owl’s voice there was none, save the falling of a fountain into its stone basin; for, it was one of those dark nights that hold their breath by the hour together, and then heave a long low sigh, and hold their breath again. The great door clanged behind him, and Monsieur the Marquis crossed a…

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Excerpt #9, from The Gravity Business, by James E. Gunn

…“And who spent it all trying to invent perpetual motion machines and longevity pills,” Joyce said bitterly, “and fixed it so we’d have to go searching for uranium and habitable worlds all through this deadly galaxy? You, Grampa!” “Well, now,” Grampa protested, “I got a little put away yet. You’ll be sorry when I’m dead and gone.” “You’re never going to die, Grampa,” Joyce said harshly. “Just before we left, you bought a hundred-year contract with that Life-Begins-At-Ninety longevity company.” “Well, now,” said Grampa, blinking, “how’d you find out about that? Well, now!” In confusion, he turned back to the pircuit and jabbed a button. Thirteen slim lights sprang on. “I’ll get you this time!” Four stretched and stood up. He looked curiously into the corner by the computer where Grampa’s chair stood. “You brought that pircuit from Earth, didn’t you? What’s the game?” Grampa looked up, obviously relieved to drop his act of intense concentration. “I’ll tell you, boy. You play against the pircuit, taking turns, and you can put out one, two or three lights. The player who makes the other one turn out the last light is the winner.” “That’s simple,” Four said without hesitation. “The winning strategy is to–”…

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Excerpt #10, from Middlemarch, by George Eliot

…vaults where he walked taper in hand. He did not confess to himself, still less could he have breathed to another, his surprise that though he had won a lovely and noble-hearted girl he had not won delight,—which he had also regarded as an object to be found by search. It is true that he knew all the classical passages implying the contrary; but knowing classical passages, we find, is a mode of motion, which explains why they leave so little extra force for their personal application. Poor Mr. Casaubon had imagined that his long studious bachelorhood had stored up for him a compound interest of enjoyment, and that large drafts on his affections would not fail to be honored; for we all of us, grave or light, get our thoughts entangled in metaphors, and act fatally on the strength of them. And now he was in danger of being saddened by the very conviction that his circumstances were unusually happy: there was nothing external by which he could account for a certain blankness of sensibility which came over him just when his expectant gladness should have been most lively, just when he exchanged the accustomed dulness of his Lowick library for his visits to the Grange. Here was a weary experience in which he was as utterly condemned to loneliness as in the despair which sometimes threatened him while toiling in the morass of authorship without seeming nearer to…

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Excerpt #11, from Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions, by Edwin Abbott Abbott

…the class of the person whom we are addressing, unless indeed he belongs to the higher sections of the nobility. There the difficulty is much greater. Even a Master of Arts in our University of Wentbridge has been known to confuse a ten-sided with a twelve-sided Polygon; and there is hardly a Doctor of Science in or out of that famous University who could pretend to decide promptly and unhesitatingly between a twenty-sided and a twenty-four sided member of the Aristocracy. Those of my readers who recall the extracts I gave above from the Legislative code concerning Women, will readily perceive that the process of introduction by contact requires some care and discretion. Otherwise the angles might inflict on the unwary Feeler irreparable injury. It is essential for the safety of the Feeler that the Felt should stand perfectly still. A start, a fidgety shifting of the position, yes, even a violent sneeze, has been known before now to prove fatal to the incautious, and to nip in the bud many a promising friendship. Especially is this true among the lower classes of the Triangles. With them, the eye is situated so far from their vertex that they can scarcely take cognizance of what goes on at that extremity of their frame. They are, moreover, of a rough coarse nature, not sensitive to the delicate touch of the highly organized Polygon. What wonder then if an involuntary toss of the head has ere…

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Excerpt #12, from The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins

…opened the paper case. “Let me beg you to write the note,” he said, “as a favour to ME. It need not occupy you more than a few minutes. You have only to ask Mrs. Catherick two questions. First, if her daughter was placed in the Asylum with her knowledge and approval. Secondly, if the share I took in the matter was such as to merit the expression of her gratitude towards myself? Mr. Gilmore’s mind is at ease on this unpleasant subject, and your mind is at ease–pray set my mind at ease also by writing the note.” “You oblige me to grant your request, Sir Percival, when I would much rather refuse it.” With those words Miss Halcombe rose from her place and went to the writing-table. Sir Percival thanked her, handed her a pen, and then walked away towards the fireplace. Miss Fairlie’s little Italian greyhound was lying on the rug. He held out his hand, and called to the dog good-humouredly. “Come, Nina,” he said, “we remember each other, don’t we?” The little beast, cowardly and cross-grained, as pet-dogs usually are, looked up at him sharply, shrank away from his outstretched hand, whined, shivered, and hid itself under a sofa. It was scarcely possible that he could have been put out by such a trifle as a dog’s…

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