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Daily Excerpts: My humble attempt at offering fresh, daily, bookstore-style browsing…
Below you’ll find twelve book excerpts selected at random, each day, from over 400 different hand-selected Project Gutenberg titles. This includes many of my personal favorites.
Excerpt #1, from The Wave: An Egyptian Aftermath, by Algernon Blackwood
…slight diversion, for the movement was already in his legs and in another moment must have set his feet upon that dreadful shuffling. As from a distance, he heard the formal talk and introductions, his father’s statement that he had won his round of golf with ‘the Dean,’ praise of the weather, and something or other about the strange stillness of the sea– but then, with a sudden, hollow crash against his very ear, the appalling words: ‘. . . broke his mashie into splinters, yes. And, by the by, the Dean knows the Aylmers. They were staying here earlier in the summer, he told me. Lettice, the girl,–Mary’s friend, you remember–is going to be married this week. . . .’ Tom clutched the back of the wicker-chair in front of him. The sun went out. An icy air passed Up his spine. The blood drained from his face. The tennis courts, and the group of white figures moving towards them, swung up into the sky. He gripped the chair till the rods of wicker pressed through the flesh into the bone. For a moment he felt that the sensation of actual sickness was more than he could master; his legs bent like paper beneath his weight. ‘You remember Lettice, Tom, don’t you?’ his father was saying somewhere in mid-air above him. ‘Yes, rather.’ Apparently he said these words; the air at any rate went through his teeth and lips, and the same minute, with a superhuman effort…
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Excerpt #2, from The Intrusion of Jimmy, by P. G. Wodehouse
…for ways of retrenchment. His lordship’s allowance was an obvious way. He had not to wait long for an excuse for annihilating it. There is a game called poker, at which a man without much control over his features may exceed the limits of the handsomest allowance. His lordship’s face during a game of poker was like the surface of some quiet pond, ruffled by every breeze. The blank despair of his expression when he held bad cards made bluffing expensive. The honest joy that bubbled over in his eyes when his hand was good acted as an efficient danger-signal to his grateful opponents. Two weeks of poker had led to his writing to his uncle a distressed, but confident, request for more funds; and the avuncular foot had come down with a joyous bang. Taking his stand on the evils of gambling, Sir Thomas had changed the conditions of the money-market for his nephew with a thoroughness that effectually prevented the possibility of the youth’s being again caught by the fascinations of poker. The allowance vanished absolutely; and in its place there came into being an arrangement. By this, his lordship was to have whatever money he wished, but he must ask for it, and state why it was needed. If the request were reasonable, the cash would be forthcoming; if preposterous, it would not. The flaw in the scheme, from his lordship’s point of view, was the difference of opinion…
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Excerpt #3, from Peter Pan, by J. M. Barrie
…Grandly, however, did Tootles respond. For that one moment he dropped his silliness and spoke with dignity. “I am just Tootles,” he said, “and nobody minds me. But the first who does not behave to Wendy like an English gentleman I will blood him severely.” He drew back his hanger; and for that instant his sun was at noon. The others held back uneasily. Then Peter returned, and they saw at once that they would get no support from him. He would keep no girl in the Neverland against her will. “Wendy,” he said, striding up and down, “I have asked the redskins to guide you through the wood, as flying tires you so.” “Thank you, Peter.” “Then,” he continued, in the short sharp voice of one accustomed to be obeyed, “Tinker Bell will take you across the sea. Wake her, Nibs.” Nibs had to knock twice before he got an answer, though Tink had really been sitting up in bed listening for some time. “Who are you? How dare you? Go away,” she cried. “You are to get up, Tink,” Nibs called, “and take Wendy on a journey.” Of course Tink had been delighted to hear that Wendy was going; but she was jolly well determined not to be her courier, and she said so in still more offensive language. Then she pretended to be asleep again….
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Excerpt #4, from The Lock and Key Library: Classic Mystery and Detective Stories: Modern English
…few minutes, until we had turned down one of the quiet streets which led toward the Edgeware Road. “You did it very nicely, doctor,” he remarked. “Nothing could have been better. It is all right.” “You have the photograph?” “I know where it is.” “And how did you find out?” “She showed me, as I told you that she would.” “I am still in the dark.” “I do not wish to make a mystery,” said he, laughing. “The matter was perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that everyone in the street was an accomplice. They were all engaged for the evening.” “I guessed as much.” “Then, when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint in the palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my hand to my face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick.” “That also I could fathom.” "Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What else could she do? And into her sitting room, which was the very room which I suspected. It lay between that and her bedroom, and I was determined to see which. They laid me on a couch, I motioned for air, they were compelled to open…
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Excerpt #5, from The Bacchae of Euripides, by Euripides
…Hill grass. Great uddered kine then hadst thou seen Bellowing in sword-like hands that cleave and tear, A live steer riven asunder, and the air Tossed with rent ribs or limbs of cloven tread, And flesh upon the branches, and a red Rain from the deep green pines. Yea, bulls of pride, Horns swift to rage, were fronted and aside Flung stumbling, by those multitudinous hands Dragged pitilessly. And swifter were the bands Of garbèd flesh and bone unbound withal Than on thy royal eyes the lids may fall. Then on like birds, by their own speed upborne, They swept toward the plains of waving corn That lie beside Asopus’ banks, and bring To Thebes the rich fruit of her harvesting. On Hysiae and Erythrae that lie nursed Amid Kithaeron’s bowering rocks, they burst Destroying, as a foeman’s army comes. They caught up little children from their homes, High on their shoulders, babes unheld, that swayed And laughed and fell not; all a wreck they made;…
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Excerpt #6, from The War of the Worlds, by H. G. Wells
…description. “Way!” my brother heard voices crying. “Make way!” It was like riding into the smoke of a fire to approach the meeting point of the lane and road; the crowd roared like a fire, and the dust was hot and pungent. And, indeed, a little way up the road a villa was burning and sending rolling masses of black smoke across the road to add to the confusion. Two men came past them. Then a dirty woman, carrying a heavy bundle and weeping. A lost retriever dog, with hanging tongue, circled dubiously round them, scared and wretched, and fled at my brother’s threat. So much as they could see of the road Londonward between the houses to the right was a tumultuous stream of dirty, hurrying people, pent in between the villas on either side; the black heads, the crowded forms, grew into distinctness as they rushed towards the corner, hurried past, and merged their individuality again in a receding multitude that was swallowed up at last in a cloud of dust. “Go on! Go on!” cried the voices. “Way! Way!” One man’s hands pressed on the back of another. My brother stood at the pony’s head. Irresistibly attracted, he advanced slowly, pace by pace, down the lane. Edgware had been a scene of confusion, Chalk Farm a riotous tumult, but…
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Excerpt #7, from Mr. Punch’s History of the Great War, by Charles L. Graves
…Lord Milner has gone so far in the House of Lords as to say that “such war news as is published has from first to last been seriously misleading.” The Balkan intelligence that is allowed to reach us does not exactly deserve this censure. To call it misleading would be too high praise; it seldom rises beyond a level of blameless irrelevance. It is hardly a burlesque of the facts to say that a cable from Amsterdam informs us that the Copenhagen correspondent of the Echo de Paris learns from Salonika, viâ Lemnos and Nijni Novgorod, that in high official circles in Bukarest it is rumoured that in Constantinople the situation is considered grave; and then we are warned that too much credence must not be given to this report. The number of Censors at the Press Bureau being exactly forty, and their minute knowledge of English literature having been displayed on several occasions, it is said that Sir John Simon contemplates their incorporation as an Academy of “Immortals–for the duration of the War.” [Illustration: PADDY (who has had his periscope smashed by a bullet): “Sure there’s seven years’ bad luck for the poor devil that broke that, anyhow.”] Mr. Punch’s Correspondent “Blanche” sends distressing details of some of the new complaints contracted by smart war workers. These include munition-wrists, shell-makers’ crouch, neuro-committee-itis, and Zeppelin-eye through looking up into the sky too long with a telescope. A great deal depends on what you look at and what you look through. Thus…
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Excerpt #8, from Winnie the Pooh, by A. A. Milne
…“What?” said Rabbit. “Fifteen.” “Fifteen what?” “Your family.” “What about them?” Pooh rubbed his nose and said that he thought Rabbit had been talking about his family. “Did I?” said Rabbit carelessly. “Yes, you said—-” “Never mind, Pooh,” said Piglet impatiently. “The question is, What are we to do about Kanga?” “Oh, I see,” said Pooh. “The best way,” said Rabbit, “would be this. The best way would be to steal Baby Roo and hide him, and then when Kanga says, ‘Where’s Baby Roo?’ we say, ‘Aha!’” “Aha!” said Pooh, practising. “Aha! Aha! … Of course,” he went on, “we could say ‘Aha!’ even if we hadn’t stolen Baby Roo.” “Pooh,” said Rabbit kindly, “you haven’t any brain.” “I know,” said Pooh humbly. "We say ‘Aha!’ so that Kanga knows that we know where Baby Roo is. ‘Aha!’ means ’We’ll tell you where Baby Roo is, if you promise to go…
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Excerpt #9, from Investigation of Communist activities in Seattle, Wash., Area, Hearings, Part 2
…Mr. MOULDER. Do you decline to answer that question? Mr. BITTERMAN. I decline to answer. Mr. MOULDER. Do you decline on the grounds and on the reasons of the protection afforded to you by the provisions of the fifth amendment? Mr. BITTERMAN. Yes. Mr. WHEELER. I would like to refer to a document entitled “Investigation of Communist Activities in the Pacific Northwest, Part 3,” page 6173. It is the testimony of Barbara Hartle in June 1954. She is identifying members of the Communist Party, and I quote the following: Jack Bitterman, then husband of Ruth Bitterman, was a member of this section in the machinists’ branch, and was for a time chairman of that branch. Do you wish to make any comment on that testimony? (The witness confers with his counsel.)… Mr. BITTERMAN. I invoke the fifth amendment, on the same grounds previously stated. Mr. VELDE. Mr. Wheeler is not asking you to confirm or deny it, but asked merely if you wanted to make some comment on it. Why do you take the fifth amendment on that question? (The witness confers with his counsel.)…
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Excerpt #10, from The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran
…arches that span the summits of the mind? Have you beauty, that leads the heart from things fashioned of wood and stone to the holy mountain? Tell me, have you these in your houses? Or have you only comfort, and the lust for comfort, that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest, and then becomes a host, and then a master? ***** Ay, and it becomes a tamer, and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires. Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron. It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh. It makes mock of your sound senses, and lays them in thistledown like fragile…
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Excerpt #11, from Fifteen Thousand Useful Phrases, by Grenville Kleiser
…undignified and futile uneasiness and apprehension uneducated and inexperienced unfamiliar and distant unfettered and vigorous unforced and unchecked unfortunate and unparalleled unfounded and incredible ungracious and reluctant unhappiness and discomfort unique and original unity and completeness unjust and ungrateful unlimited and absolute unnatural and harmful unobserved and unsuspected unobtrusive and tactful unparalleled and inexhaustible unpleasant and bewildering unpopular and unimpressive unprecedented and objectionable…
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Excerpt #12, from All the World Over: Interesting Stories of Travel, Thrilling Adventure and Home
…“Oh! what a lovely silk!” ejaculated Aunt Mary’s friend, coming to a sudden stop before one of the great dry goods emporiums on Washington Street. Aunt Mary stopped, too. The pattern was too gorgeous to be lightly passed. She raised her hand to remove her vail, forgot her charge for a moment, and when she looked again Charlie had disappeared. “Charlie! Charlie! Why, where is he?” she exclaimed, pale with fright. “I thought you had hold of him!” “I dropped his hand not a minute ago, to be sure my pocket hadn’t been picked. I thought you would look out for him.” In vain they searched; in vain they questioned clerks and policemen and apple-women. Nobody had seen such a boy, and yet everybody seemed to think that they certainly should remember if they had. It was now half past four. And Tom, who might have helped them so much, was gone! “Perhaps,” suggested a pitying apothecary’s clerk, with a very small moustache and very smooth hair, “perhaps the young man Tom has taken him home.” There was a small spark of comfort in this suggestion and, though unbelieving, the two hurried homewards, only to find Tom sitting on the doorstep, lazily fanning himself, and hear his surprised ejaculation: “Why! what have you done with Charlie?”…
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