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A Best of Planet PDF: Volume One [1]

Planet PDF is a founding co-sponsor of the PDF Conference

(www.pdfconference.com), developed and hosted by DigiPub Solutions Corp.,

and we were delighted to learn recently that Gary Cosimini of Adobe Systems,

Inc. will be the keynote speaker for the June 2-4 event in Bethesda, MD. In the

past, this event has had a significant focus on government and enterprise uses

and users. For the upcoming event, theyve added a track for creative

professionals. With Cosiminis publishing background prior to joining Adobe,

he was the Senior Art Director for The New York Times and long-term

Acrobat/PDF involvement and interest, hes a perfect choice to help

commemorate The First Acrobat/PDF Decade.

A Christmas Carol [2]

Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The

register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and

the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon

'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to.

A Tale of Two Cities [3]

Charles Dickens

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it

was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of

incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the

spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we

had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going

direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period,

that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or

for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

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Aesop's Fables [4]

Aesop

A cock was once strutting up and down the farmyard among the hens when

suddenly he espied something shinning amid the straw. 'Ho! ho!' quoth he,

'that's for me,' and soon rooted it out from beneath the straw. What did it turn

out to be but a Pearl that by some chance had been lost in the yard? 'You may

be a treasure,' quoth Master Cock, 'to men that prize you, but for me I would

rather have a single barley-corn than a peck of pearls.'

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland [5]

Lewis Carroll

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of

having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was

reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, 'and what is the use of a

book,' thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?'

Andersen's Fairy Tales [6]

Hans Christian Andersen

Many years ago, there was an Emperor, who was so excessively fond of new

clothes, that he spent all his money in dress. He did not trouble himself in the

least about his soldiers; nor did he care to go either to the theatre or the chase,

except for the opportunities then afforded him for displaying his new clothes.

He had a different suit for each hour of the day; and as of any other king or

emperor, one is accustomed to say, 'he is sitting in council,' it was always said

of him, 'The Emperor is sitting in his wardrobe.'

Anna Karenina [7]

Leo Tolstoy

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Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

Everything was in confusion in the Oblonskys' house. The wife had discovered

that the husband was carrying on an intrigue with a French girl, who had been a

governess in their family, and she had announced to her husband that she

could not go on living in the same house with him.

Around the World in 80 Days [8]

Jules Verne

Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington Gardens, the

house in which Sheridan died in 1814. He was one of the most noticeable

members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to avoid attracting

attention; an enigmatical personage, about whom little was known, except that

he was a polished man of the world. People said that he resembled Byron--at

least that his head was Byronic; but he was a bearded, tranquil Byron, who

might live on a thousand years without growing old.

Beyond Good and Evil [9]

1. The Will to Truth, which is to tempt us to many a hazardous enterprise, the

famous Truthfulness of which all philosophers have hitherto spoken with

respect, what questions has this Will to Truth not laid before us! What strange,

perplexing, questionable questions! It is already a long story; yet it seems as if it

were hardly commenced. Is it any wonder if we at last grow distrustful, lose

patience, and turn impatiently away? That this Sphinx teaches us at last to ask

questions ourselves?

Crime and Punishment [10]

Fyodor Dostoevsky

On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the

garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked slowly, as though in

hesitation, towards K. bridge.

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Dracula [11]

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 train was an hour late. Buda-

Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse which I got of it from the train

and the little I could walk through the streets. I feared to go very far from the

station, as we had arrived late and would start as near the correct time as

possible.

Emma [12]

Jane Austen

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and

happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and

had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex

her.

Erewhon [13]

If the reader will excuse me, I will say nothing of my antecedents, nor of the

circumstances which led me to leave my native country; the narrative would be

tedious to him and painful to myself. Suffice it, that when I left home it was

with the intention of going to some new colony, and either finding, or even

perhaps purchasing, waste crown land suitable for cattle or sheep farming, by

which means I thought that I could better my fortunes more rapidly than in

England.

For the Term of His Natural Life [14]

In the breathless stillness of a tropical afternoon, when the air was hot and

heavy, and the sky brazen and cloudless, the shadow of the Malabar lay solitary

on the surface of the glittering sea.

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Frankenstein [15]

You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of

an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrived here

yesterday, and my first task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare and

increasing confidence in the success of my undertaking.

Great Expectations [16]

Charles Dickens

My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant

tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So,

I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.

Grimm's Fairy Tales [17]

A certain king had a beautiful garden, and in the garden stood a tree which bore

golden apples. These apples were always counted, and about the time when

they began to grow ripe it was found that every night one of them was gone.

The king became very angry at this, and ordered the gardener to keep watch all

night under the tree. The gardener set his eldest son to watch; but about twelve

o'clock he fell asleep, and in the morning another of the apples was missing.

Then the second son was ordered to watch; and at midnight he too fell asleep,

and in the morning another apple was gone. Then the third son offered to keep

watch; but the gardener at first would not let him.

Heart of Darkness [18]

The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails,

and was at rest. The flood had made, the wind was nearly calm, and being

bound down the river, the only thing for it was to come to and wait for the turn

of the tide.

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Jane Eyre [19]

There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering,

indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs.

Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had

brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-

door exercise was now out of the question.

Kidnapped [20]

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. The sun began to shine upon the summit of

the hills as I went down the road; and by the time I had come as far as the

manse, the blackbirds were whistling in the garden lilacs, and the mist that

hung around the valley in the time of the dawn was beginning to arise and die

away.

Little Women [21]

'Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,' grumbled Jo, lying on the

rug. 'It's so dreadful to be poor!' sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress. 'I

don't think it's fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls

nothing at all,' added little Amy, with an injured sniff.

Madame Bovary [22]

We were in class when the head-master came in, followed by a 'new fellow,' not

wearing the school uniform, and a school servant carrying a large desk. Those

who had been asleep woke up, and every one rose as if just surprised at his

work.

Middlemarch [23]

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Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by

poor dress. Her hand and wrist were so finely formed that she could wear

sleeves not less bare of style than those in which the Blessed Virgin appeared to

Italian painters; and her profile as well as her stature and bearing seemed to

gain the more dignity from her plain garments, which by the side of provincial

fashion gave her the impressiveness of a fine quotation from the Bible,--or from

one of our elder poets,--in a paragraph of to-day's newspaper.

Moby Dick [24]

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago--never mind how long precisely--having little

or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I

thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a

way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I

find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly

November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before

coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and

especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a

strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street,

and methodically knocking people's hats off--then, I account it high time to get

to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a

philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the

ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in

their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards

the ocean with me.

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard [25]

IN THE time of Spanish rule, and for many years afterwards, the town of Sulaco-

-the luxuriant beauty of the orange gardens bears witness to its antiquity--had

never been commercially anything more important than a coasting port with a

fairly large local trade in ox-hides and indigo. The clumsy deep-sea galleons of

the conquerors that, needing a brisk gale to move at all, would lie becalmed,

where your modern ship built on clipper lines forges ahead by the mere flapping

of her sails, had been barred out of Sulaco by the prevailing calms of its vast

gulf.

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Notes from the Underground [26]

I am a sick man. ... I am a spiteful man. I am an unattractive man. I believe my

liver is diseased. However, I know nothing at all about my disease, and do not

know for certain what ails me. I don't consult a doctor for it, and never have,

though I have a respect for medicine and doctors. Besides, I am extremely

superstitious, sufficiently so to respect medicine, anyway (I am well-educated

enough not to be superstitious, but I am superstitious). No, I refuse to consult a

doctor from spite. That you probably will not understand. Well, I understand it,

though. Of course, I can't explain who it is precisely that I am mortifying in this

case by my spite: I am perfectly well aware that I cannot 'pay out' the doctors by

not consulting them; I know better than anyone that by all this I am only

injuring myself and no one else. But still, if I don't consult a doctor it is from

spite. My liver is bad, well--let it get worse!

Of Human Bondage [27]

The day broke gray and dull. The clouds hung heavily, and there was a rawness

in the air that suggested snow. A woman servant came into a room in which a

child was sleeping and drew the curtains. She glanced mechanically at the

house opposite, a stucco house with a portico, and went to the child's bed.

Oliver Twist [28]

Among other public buildings in a certain town, which for many reasons it will

be prudent to refrain from mentioning, and to which I will assign no fictitious

name, there is one anciently common to most towns, great or small: to wit, a

workhouse; and in this workhouse was born; on a day and date which I need not

trouble myself to repeat, inasmuch as it can be of no possible consequence to

the reader, in this stage of the business at all events; the item of mortality

whose name is prefixed to the head of this chapter.

Paradise Lost [29]

Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit

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Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste

Brought death into the World, and all our woe,

With loss of Eden, till one greater Man

Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,

Sing, Heavenly Muse, that, on the secret top

Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire

That shepherd who first taught the chosen seed

In the beginning how the heavens and earth

Rose out of Chaos: or, if Sion hill

Pollyanna [30]

Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this June morning.

Miss Polly did not usually make hurried movements; she specially prided herself

on her repose of manner. But to-day she was hurrying--actually hurrying.

Pride and Prejudice [31]

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good

fortune, must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of

such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well

fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful

property of some one or other of their daughters.

Robinson Crusoe [32]

I WAS born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family, though not of

that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen, who settled first at Hull.

He got a good estate by merchandise, and leaving off his trade, lived afterwards

at York, from whence he had married my mother, whose relations were named

Robinson, a very good family in that country, and from whom I was called

Robinson Kreutznaer; but, by the usual corruption of words in England, we are

now called - nay we call ourselves and write our name - Crusoe; and so my

companions always called me.

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Sense and Sensibility [33]

The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. Their estate was large,

and their residence was at Norland Park, in the centre of their property, where,

for many generations, they had lived in so respectable a manner as to engage

the general good opinion of their surrounding acquaintance. The late owner of

this estate was a single man, who lived to a very advanced age, and who for

many years of his life, had a constant companion and housekeeper in his sister.

Sons and Lovers [34]

'THE BOTTOMS' succeeded to 'Hell Row". Hell Row was a block of thatched,

bulging cottages that stood by the brookside on Greenhill Lane. There lived the

colliers who worked in the little gin-pits two fields away. The brook ran under

the alder trees, scarcely soiled by these small mines, whose coal was drawn to

the surface by donkeys that plodded wearily in a circle round a gin. And all over

the countryside were these same pits, some of which had been worked in the

time of Charles II, the few colliers and the donkeys burrowing down like ants

into the earth, making queer mounds and little black places among the corn-

fields and the meadows. And the cottages of these coal-miners, in blocks and

pairs here and there, together with odd farms and homes of the stockingers,

straying over the parish, formed the village of Bestwood.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn [35]

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. That book was made by Mr.

Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which he

stretched, but mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I never seen anybody

but lied one time or another, without it was Aunt Polly, or the widow, or maybe

Mary. Aunt Polly -- Tom's Aunt Polly, she is -- and Mary, and the Widow

Douglas is all told about in that book, which is mostly a true book, with some

stretchers, as I said before.

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer [36]

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The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the room;

then she put them up and looked out under them. She seldom or never looked

THROUGH them for so small a thing as a boy; they were her state pair, the pride

of her heart, and were built for 'style,' not service -- she could have seen

through a pair of stove-lids just as well. She looked perplexed for a moment,

and then said, not fiercely, but still loud enough for the furniture to hear:

The Brothers Karamazov [37]

ALEXEY Fyodorovitch Karamazov was the third son of Fyodor Pavlovitch

Karamazov, a landowner well known in our district in his own day, and still

remembered among us owing to his gloomy and tragic death, which happened

thirteen years ago, and which I shall describe in its proper place. For the present

I will only say that this 'landowner' -- for so we used to call him, although he

hardly spent a day of his life on his own estate -- was a strange type, yet one

pretty frequently to be met with, a type abject and vicious and at the same time

senseless.

The Hound of the Baskervilles [38]

Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon

those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the

breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our

visitor had left behind him the night before. It was a fine, thick piece of wood,

bulbous-headed, of the sort which is known as a 'Penang lawyer.' Just under the

head was a broad silver band nearly an inch across. 'To James Mortimer,

M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.,' was engraved upon it, with the date

'1884.' It was just such a stick as the old-fashioned family practitioner used to

carry--dignified, solid, and reassuring.

The Idiot [39]

Towards the end of November, during a thaw, at nine o'clock one morning, a

train on the Warsaw and Petersburg railway was approaching the latter city at

full speed. The morning was so damp and misty that it was only with great

difficulty that the day succeeded in breaking; and it was impossible to

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distinguish anything more than a few yards away from the carriage windows.

The Iliad [40]

Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills

upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and

many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, for so were the counsels of

Jove fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great

Achilles, first fell out with one another.

The Island of Doctor Moreau [41]

I DO not propose to add anything to what has already been written concerning

the loss of the 'Lady Vain.' As everyone knows, she collided with a derelict

when ten days out from Callao. The longboat, with seven of the crew, was

picked up eighteen days after by H. M. gunboat 'Myrtle,' and the story of their

terrible privations has become quite as well known as the far more horrible

'Medusa' case. But I have to add to the published story of the 'Lady Vain'

another, possibly as horrible and far stranger. It has hitherto been supposed

that the four men who were in the dingey perished, but this is incorrect. I have

the best of evidence for this assertion: I was one of the four men.

The Jungle Book [42]

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. Mother

Wolf lay with her big gray nose dropped across her four tumbling, squealing

cubs, and the moon shone into the mouth of the cave where they all lived.

'Augrh!' said Father Wolf. 'It is time to hunt again.' He was going to spring down

hill when a little shadow with a bushy tail crossed the threshold and whined:

'Good luck go with you, O Chief of the Wolves. And good luck and strong white

teeth go with noble children that they may never forget the hungry in this

world.'

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The Last of the Mohicans [43]

It was a feature peculiar to the colonial wars of North America, that the toils

and dangers of the wilderness were to be encountered before the adverse hosts

could meet. A wide and apparently an impervious boundary of forests severed

the possessions of the hostile provinces of France and England. The hardy

colonist, and the trained European who fought at his side, frequently expended

months in struggling against the rapids of the streams, or in effecting the

rugged passes of the mountains, in quest of an opportunity to exhibit their

courage in a more martial conflict.

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow [44]

In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern shore of

the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated by the ancient

Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they always prudently shortened

sail and implored the protection of St. Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a

small market town or rural port, which by some is called Greensburgh, but

which is more generally and properly known by the name of Tarry Town. This

name was given, we are told, in former days, by the good housewives of the

adjacent country, from the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger

about the village tavern on market days.

The Lost World [45]

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 centered upon his own silly self. If anything could have driven me

from Gladys, it would have been the thought of such a father-in-law. I am

convinced that he really believed in his heart that I came round to the

Chestnuts three days a week for the pleasure of his company, and very especially

to hear his views upon bimetallism, a subject upon which he was by way of

being an authority.

The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood [46]

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IN MERRY ENGLAND in the time of old, when good King Henry the Second

ruled the land, there lived within the green glades of Sherwood Forest, near

Nottingham Town, a famous outlaw whose name was Robin Hood. No archer

ever lived that could speed a gray goose shaft with such skill and cunning as his,

nor were there ever such yeomen as the sevenscore merry men that roamed

with him through the greenwood shades. Right merrily they dwelled within the

depths of Sherwood Forest, suffering neither care nor want, but passing the

time in merry games of archery or bouts of cudgel play, living upon the King's

venison, washed down with draughts of ale of October brewing.

The Metamorphosis [47]

One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up from anxious dreams, he

discovered that in bed he had been changed into a monstrous verminous bug.

He lay on his armour-hard back and saw, as he lifted his head up a little, his

brown, arched abdomen divided up into rigid bow-like sections. From this

height the blanket, just about ready to slide off completely, could hardly stay in

place. His numerous legs, pitifully thin in comparison to the rest of his

circumference, flickered helplessly before his eyes.

The Odyssey [48]

Tell me, O Muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had

sacked the famous town of Troy. Many cities did he visit, and many were the

nations with whose manners and customs he was acquainted; moreover he

suffered much by sea while trying to save his own life and bring his men safely

home; but do what he might he could not save his men, for they perished

through their own sheer folly in eating the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion; so

the god prevented them from ever reaching home. Tell me, too, about all these

things, oh daughter of Jove, from whatsoever source you may know them.

The Picture of Dorian Gray [49]

The studio was filled with the rich odor of roses, and when the light summer

wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden there came through the open door

the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering

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thorn.

The Portrait of a Lady [50]

Under certain circumstances there are few hours in life more agreeable than the

hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea. There are

circumstances in which, whether you partake of the tea or not--some people of

course never do--the situation is in itself delightful. Those that I have in mind

in beginning to unfold this simple history offered an admirable setting to an

innocent pastime.

The Prince [51]

All states, all powers, that have held and hold rule over men have been and are

either republics or principalities. Principalities are either hereditary, in which

the family has been long established; or they are new.

The Red Badge of Courage [52]

The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an

army stretched out on the hills, resting. As the landscape changed from brown

to green, the army awakened, and began to tremble with eagerness at the noise

of rumors. It cast its eyes upon the roads, which were growing from long troughs

of liquid mud to proper thoroughfares. A river, amber-tinted in the shadow of

its banks, purled at the army's feet; and at night, when the stream had become

of a sorrowful blackness, one could see across it the red, eyelike gleam of hostile

camp-fires set in the low brows of distant hills.

The Scarlet Letter [53]

A throng of bearded men, in sad-coloured garments and grey steeple-crowned

hats, inter-mixed 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.

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The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr.

Hyde [54]

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. At friendly

meetings, and when the wine was to his taste, something eminently human

beaconed from his eye; something indeed which never found its way into his

talk, but which spoke not only in these silent symbols of the after-dinner face,

but more often and loudly in the acts of his life. He was austere with himself;

drank gin when he was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages; and though he

enjoyed the theatre, had not crossed the doors of one for twenty years. But he

had an approved tolerance for others; sometimes wondering, almost with envy,

at the high pressure of spirits involved in their misdeeds; and in any extremity

inclined to help rather than to reprove.

The Thirty-Nine Steps [55]

I returned from the City about three o'clock on that May afternoon pretty well

disgusted with life. I had been three months in the Old Country, and was fed up

with it. If anyone had told me a year ago that I would have been feeling like that

I should have laughed at him; but there was the fact. The weather made me

liverish, the talk of the ordinary Englishman made me sick, I couldn't get

enough exercise, and the amusements of London seemed as flat as soda- water

that has been standing in the sun.

The Time Machine [56]

The Time Traveller (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was

expounding a recondite matter to us. His grey eyes shone and twinkled, and his

usually pale face was flushed and animated. The fire burned brightly, and the

soft radiance of the incandescent lights in the lilies of silver caught the bubbles

that flashed and passed in our glasses. Our chairs, being his patents, embraced

and caressed us rather than submitted to be sat upon, and there was that

luxurious after-dinner atmosphere when thought roams gracefully free of the

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trammels of precision. And he put it to us in this way--marking the points with

a lean forefinger--as we sat and lazily admired his earnestness over this new

paradox (as we thought it:) and his fecundity.

The Way of All Flesh [57]

When I was a small boy at the beginning of the century I remember an old man

who wore knee-breeches and worsted stockings, and who used to hobble about

the street of our village with the help of a stick. He must have been getting on

for eighty in the year 1807, earlier than which date I suppose I can hardly

remember him, for I was born in 1802. A few white locks hung about his ears,

his shoulders were bent and his knees feeble, but he was still hale, and was

much respected in our little world of Paleham. His name was Pontifex.

The Works of Edgar Allan Poe [58]

BY late accounts from Rotterdam, that city seems to be in a high state of

philosophical excitement. Indeed, phenomena have there occurred of a nature

so completely unexpected -- so entirely novel -- so utterly at variance with

preconceived opinions -- as to leave no doubt on my mind that long ere this all

Europe is in an uproar, all physics in a ferment, all reason and astronomy

together by the ears.

Three Ghost Stories [59]

Charles Dickens

When he heard a voice thus calling to him, he was standing at the door of his

box, with a flag in his hand, furled round its short pole. One would have

thought, considering the nature of the ground, that he could not have doubted

from what quarter the voice came; but instead of looking up to where I stood on

the top of the steep cutting nearly over his head, he turned himself about, and

looked down the Line.

Treasure Island [60]

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Robert Louis Stevenson

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.

Ulysses [61]

James Joyce

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather

on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled,

was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl

aloft and intoned:

--Introibo ad altare Dei.

Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely:

--Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fearful jesuit!

Utopia [62]

He that knows one of their towns knows them all--they are so like one another,

except where the situation makes some difference. I shall therefore describe one

of them, and none is so proper as Amaurot; for as none is more eminent (all the

rest yielding in precedence to this, because it is the seat of their supreme

council), so there was none of them better known to me, I having lived five

years all together in it.

Vanity Fair [63]

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While the present century was in its teens, and on one sunshiny morning in

June, there drove up to the great iron gate of Miss Pinkerton's academy for

young ladies, on Chiswick Mall, a large family coach, with two fat horses in

blazing harness, driven by a fat coachman in a three-cornered hat and wig, at

the rate of four miles an hour.

War and Peace [64]

'Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the

Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, if you still

try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by that Antichrist- I really

believe he is Antichrist- I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no

longer my friend, no longer my 'faithful slave,' as you call yourself! But how do

you do? I see I have frightened you- sit down and tell me all the news.'

Women in Love [65]

Ursula and Gudrun Brangwen sat one morning in the window-bay of their

father's house in Beldover, working and talking. Ursula was stitching a piece of

brightly-coloured embroidery, and Gudrun was drawing upon a board which she

held on her knee. They were mostly silent, talking as their thoughts strayed

through their minds.

Wuthering Heights [66]

1801. - I have just returned from a visit to my landlord - the solitary neighbour

that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all

England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely

removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist's heaven: and Mr.

Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A

capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I

beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up,

and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still

further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name.

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