Grab your favorite book and post the first paragraph. I'll try to guess what book it comes from.
♥Goober♥
2011/04/26 22:42:59
Lets hope I don't fail miserably! :D
Top Opinion
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Nikolas Ravena 2011/04/27 01:28:51
+5Simon Lewis couldn't blame her: shed probably been hoping for a better tip than the one she was going to get on a single cup of coffee. But it wasn't his fault vampires didn't eat. sometimes, in restaurants, he ordered food anyway, just to preserve the appearance of normalcy, but late Tuesday night, when Veselka was almost empty of other customers, it didn't seem worth the bother. "Just the coffee."
but some other ones you can have a go at:
The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after.
Part of the problem, Nita thought as she tore desperately down Rose Avenue, is that I can't keep my mouth shut.
For Vivian death was a social event. There were letters of acknowledgment to write--"Your flowers were so pretty, the arrangement was so thoughtful." Invitations to pity dinners to accept and then log into the calendar.
As young girls living in a peaceful and relatively crime-free community, Karen Stoker and I should have had an adolescence full of hope, an adolescence of bright colors, sweet things, and upbeat muisc. No one season should have looked drearier than another. Winter should have been dazziling white, with icicles resembling stings of diamonds and the air jingling with our laughter at the crunch of the snow beneath our boots. Spring, summer, and fall would each have its own magic. In fact, our lives should have been one long and forever special day protected by loving parents and family.
"Charlie Asher walked the earth like an ant walks on the surface of water, as if the slightest misstep might send him plummeting through the surface to sucked into the depths below. Blessed with the Beta Male imagination, he spent much of his life squinting into the future so he might spot ways in which the world was conspiring to kill him--him; his wife, Rachel; and now, newborn Sophie. But despite his attention, his paranoia, his ceaseless fretting from the moment Rachel peed a blue stripe on the pregnancy stick to the time they wheeled her into recovery at St. Francis Memorial, Death slipped in.
"She's not breathing," Charlie said
"She's breathing fine," Rachel said, patting the baby's back. "Do you want to hold her?"
Charlie had held baby Sophie for a few seconds earlier in the day, and had handed her quickly to a nurse insisting that someone more qualified than he do some finger and toe counting. He'd done it twice and kept coming up with twenty-one.
"What if there are extras? Huh? Extra-credit fingers? What if the kid has a tail?"
(Charlie was sure he'd spotted a tail in the six-month sonogram Umbilical indeed! He'd kept a hard copy.)
<3
I didn't think many people would know it.
Although, if you're looking for a really funny quirky read, this book is really great!
The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane. For a second they stood quite still, wands directed at each other's chest; then, recognizing each other, they stowed their wands beneath their cloaks and started walking briskly in the same direction.
September 13
I don't want to
because boys
don't write poetry.
Girls do.
love these
Then the humans.
That's usually how I see things.
Or at least, how I try.
***HERE IS A SMALL FACT ***
You are going to die.
I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about this whole topic, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter my protestations. Please, trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.
***Reaction to the ***
AFOREMENTIONED fact
Does this worry you?
I urge you--don't be afraid.
I'm nothing if not fair.
"There were only two kinds of people in our town. 'The stupid and the stuck,' my father had affectionately classified our neighbors. "The ones who are bound to stay or too dumb to go. Everyone else finds a way out." There was no question which one he was, but I'd never had the courage to ask why. My father was a writer and we lived in Gatlin, South Carolina, because the Wates always had, since my great-great-great-great-grand...
Ellis Wate, fought and died on the other side of the Santee River during the Civil War."
"'You've got the be kidding me,' the bounces said, folding his arms across his massive chest. He stared down at the boy in the red zip-up jacket and shook his head. 'You can't bring that thing in here.' ................. The boy grinned, he was normal enough looking, Clary thought, for Pandemonium. He had electric blue hear that stuck up around his head like the tendrils of a startled octopus."
I skipped around on the second one a little, cuz the first paragraph could have been from anything...
And while that it, as beginnings go, not entirely novel (for every fairytale about every young mas that ever was or will be could start in a similar manner) there was much about this young man and what happened to him was unusual, although even he never knew the whole of it.
The tale started, as many tales have started, in Wall. The town of Wall stands today as it has stood for six hundred years, on a high jut of granite admist a small forest woodland. The houses of Wall are square and old, built by grey stone, with dark state roofs and high chimneys; taking advantage of every inch of space on the rock, the houses lean into each other, are built one upon the next, with here and there a bush of tree growing out of the side of a building"
Well, that doesnt represent the whole book at all, but it has become a movie so maybe this will help you, the beginning of the movie:
"A philosopher once asked: 'Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?' Pointless, really.. 'Do stars gaze back?' Now *that's* a question.
[Repeated line]: -What do stars do? They shine.
isnt it cool?
but the movie is even better
I LOVED the movie <3
hehe i dont know why...
There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie, and Dim, Dim being really dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar making up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening, a flip dark chill winter bastard though dry. The Korova Milkbar was a milk-plus mesto, and you may, O my brothers, have forgotten what these mestos were like, things changing so skorry these days and everybody very quick to forget, newspapers not being read much neither. Well, what they sold there was milk plus something else. They had no licence for selling liquor, but there was no law yet against prodding some of the new veshches which they used to put into the old moloko, so you could peet it with vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom or one or two other veshches which would give you a nice quiet horrorshow fifteen minutes admiring Bog And All His Holy Angels And Saints in your left shoe with lights bursting all over your mozg. Or you could peet milk with knives in it, as we used to say, and this would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of dirty twenty-to-one, and that was what we were peeting this evening I'm starting off the story with.
There you go gees the book
Book 1
Wind howled through the night,carrying a scent that would change the world.A tall Shade lifted his head and sniffed the air.He looked human for his crimson hair and maroon eyes.
Book 2
It was nearing midnight and the Prime Minister was sitting alone in his office, reading a long memo that was slipping through his brain without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind. He was waiting for a call from the President of a far distant country, and between wondering when the wretched man would telephone, and trying to suppress unpleasant memories of what had been a very long, tiring, and difficult week, there was not much space in his head for anything else. The more he attempted to focus on the print on the page before him, the more clearly the Prime Minister could see the gloating face of one of his political opponents. This particular opponent had appeared on the news that very day, not only to enumerate all the terrible things that had happened in the last week (as though anyone needed reminding) but also to explain why each and every one of them was the government's fault.
Book 3
There wre only two kinds of people in our town."The stupid and the stuck,"my father had affectionately classified our neighbors."The ones who are bound to stay o...
Book 1
Wind howled through the night,carrying a scent that would change the world.A tall Shade lifted his head and sniffed the air.He looked human for his crimson hair and maroon eyes.
Book 2
It was nearing midnight and the Prime Minister was sitting alone in his office, reading a long memo that was slipping through his brain without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind. He was waiting for a call from the President of a far distant country, and between wondering when the wretched man would telephone, and trying to suppress unpleasant memories of what had been a very long, tiring, and difficult week, there was not much space in his head for anything else. The more he attempted to focus on the print on the page before him, the more clearly the Prime Minister could see the gloating face of one of his political opponents. This particular opponent had appeared on the news that very day, not only to enumerate all the terrible things that had happened in the last week (as though anyone needed reminding) but also to explain why each and every one of them was the government's fault.
Book 3
There wre only two kinds of people in our town."The stupid and the stuck,"my father had affectionately classified our neighbors."The ones who are bound to stay ot too dumb to go.Everyone else finds a way out."There was no question which one he was,but I'd never had the courage to ask why.My father was a writer,and we lived in Gatlin,South Carolina,because the Wates always had, since my great-great-great-great-grand... Wate,fought and died on the other side of the Santee River during Civil War.
<3 amazing books
but the other books are awesome too!and very popular!! i'm shocked that no-one has find them yet...