It looks like you're using an Ad Blocker.
Please white-list or disable AboveTopSecret.com in your ad-blocking tool.
Some features of ATS will be disabled while you continue to use an ad-blocker.
"See the child. He is pale and thin, he wears a thin and ragged linen shirt. He stokes the scullery fire. Outside lie dark turned fields with rags of snow and darker woods beyond that harbor yet a few last wolves. His folk are known for hewers of wood and drawers of water but in truth his father has been a schoolmaster. He lies in drink, he quotes from poets whose names are now lost."
We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a little bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive" when all of a sudden there was a terrible roar and all around us the sky was full of what looked like huge bat-like creatures, all swooping, and screeching, and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming "Holy Jesus! What are these Goddamn animals?" Then it was silent,
Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crisscrossed.[
Leo Tolstoy, "Anna Karenina".
All happy families resemble one another, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way
Jane Austen, "Pride and Prejudice".
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife
Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins
And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita
In accordance with the law the death sentence was announced to Cincinnatus C. in a whisper
Cincinnatus made his way in that direction where, to judge by the voices, stood beings akin to him
What struck him most was the fact that from Monday on he would be Luzhin
The door was burst in. "Alexandr Ivanovich, Alexandr Ivanovish", roared several voices.
But there was no Alexandr Ivanovich
I was the shadow of the waxwing slain
By the false azure in the window-pane
I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were both in duty equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me.
Considering our present state of culture, and how the Torch of Science has now been brandished and borne about, with more or less effect, for five thousand years and upwards; how in these times especially, not only the Torch still burns, and perhaps more fiercely than ever, but innumerable Rushlights and Sulphur-matches, kindled thereat, are also glancing in every direction, so that not the smallest cranny or doghole in Nature or Art can remain unilluminated- it might strike the reflective mind with some surprise that hitherto little or nothing of a fundamental character, whether in the way of Philosophy or History, has been written on the subject of Clothes.
originally posted by: Kandinsky
That's a great start to a novel. The Road was good with a few baggy parts that encouraged me to skip a page or two. I was considering buying Blood Meridian just now and was repelled by two words, 'epic western.'
If I found it in the airport or in a hotel room, I'd give it a go. Epic and western are two terms that tend to dissuade me from even looking at a book.
originally posted by: Astyanax
a reply to: zosimov
Don't know the first. The second is fromthe greatest first chapter in English literature, bar none. The pity and the tragedy of the Dust Bowl in four pages. I'm getting chicken skin just thinking of it now.