First Liners - Quotes
A throng of bearded men, in sad-colored garments and gray, steeple-crowned hats, intermixed with women, some wearing hoods, and others bareheaded, was assembled in front of a wooden edifice, the door of which was heavily timbered with oak, and studded with iron spikes.
The Scarlet Letter
It was love at first sight.
He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf stream and he had gone 84 days now without taking a fish.
The Old Man and the Sea
In the week before their departure to Arrakis, when all the final scurrying about had reached a nearly unbearable frenzy, an old crone came to visit the mother of the boy, Paul.
It was three hundred forty-eight years, six months, and nineteen days ago today that the citizens of Paris were awakened by the pealing of all the bells in the triple precincts of the City, the University, and the Town.
The Hunchback of Notre-Dame
Not so long ago, a monster came to the small town of Castle Rock, Maine.
Nobody was really surprised when it happened, not really, not on the subconscious level where savage things grow.
It was seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself, yawned, and spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling in their tips.
The Jungle Book
When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.
To Kill a Mockingbird
Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmond, and Lucy.
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
Buck did not read the newspapers or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego.
The Call of the Wild
The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.
The Call of the Cthulhu
Call me Ishmael.
I am living at the Villa Borghese. There is not a crumb of dirt anywhere nor a chair misplaced. We are alone here and we are dead.
Tropic of Cancer
Scarlett O'Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were.
Gone With the Wind
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
Amerigo Bonasera sat in New York Criminal Court Number 3 and waited for justice; vengeance on the men who had so cruelly hurt his daughter, who had tried to dishonor her.
Who is John Galt?
We are five miles behind the front.
All Quiet on the Western Front
Amoebae leave no fossils.
Even Cowgirls Get the Blues
"To be born again," sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, "first you have to die."
The Satanic Verses
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.
The Catcher in the Rye
The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it.
You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings.
Not long ago, there lived in London a young married couple of Dalmatian dogs named Pongo and Misses Pongo.
A few miles south of Soledad, the Salinas River drops in close to the hill-side bank and runs deep and green.
Of Mice and Men
To the red country and part of the gray country of Oklahoma, the last rains came gently, and they did not cut the scarred earth.
The Grapes of Wrath
Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance, that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable.
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the last time out of the door of my father's house.
Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17 - , and go back to the time when my father kept the `Admiral Benbow' inn, and the brown old seaman, with the sabre cut, first took up his lodging under our roof.
3 May. Bistritz. - Left Munich at 8:35 P.M., on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but the train was an hour late. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse which I got from the train and the little I could walk through the streets.
My father asked me to be the fourth corner at the Joy Luck Club.
The Joy Luck Club
We drove past Tiny Polski's mansion house to the main road, and then the five miles into Northampton, Father talking the whole way about savages and the awfulness of America - how it got turned into a dope-taking, door locking, ulcerated danger zone of rabid scavengers and criminal millionaires and moral sneaks.
The Mosquito Coast
When I wrote the following pages, or rather the bulk of them, I lived alone, in the woods, a mile from any neighbor, in a house which I had built myself, on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, Massachusetts, and earned my living by the labor of my hands only.
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.
"Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes."
War and Peace
If you want to find Cherry Tree Lane all you have to do is ask a policeman at the crossroads.
You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter.
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
"TOM!" No answer. "TOM!" No answer.
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
On the morning of August 8, 1965, Robert Kincaid locked the door to his small two-room apartment on the third floor of a rambling house in Bellingham, Washington.
The Bridges of Madison County
I do not propose to add anything to what has already been written concerning the loss of the "Lady Vain."
The Island of Doctor Moreau
The Time Traveler (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was expounding a recondite matter to us.
The Time Machine
No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinised and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scru- tinise the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water.
The War of the Worlds
"Where's Papa going with that ax?" said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.
For many days we had been tempest-tossed.
The Swiss Family Robinson
We go about our daily lives understanding almost nothing of the world.
A Brief History of Time
He was tall, about fifty, with darkly handsome, almost sinister features: a neatly trimmed mustache, hair turning silver at the temples, and eyes so black they were like tinted windows of a sleek limousine - he could see out, but you couldn't see in.
Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
Mr. Hungerton, her father, really was the most tactless person upon earth - a fluffy, feathery, untidy cockatoo of a man, perfectly good-natured, but absolutely centred upon his own silly self.
The Lost World
I am the vampire Lestat. I'm immortal. More or less. The light of the sun, the sustained heat of an intense fire - these things might destroy me. But then again, they might not.
The Vampire Lestat
Midway in our life's journey, I went astray
from the straight road and woke to find myself
alone in a dark wood.
The Divine Comedy