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Category： Author：E. Nesbit
He dreamed his pastoral dreams in the deafening clangor of the shops at Crewe, but not ten thousand hammers could beat out of his brain the faith that life was really-little as one might suppose it, just looking at it from Crewe-full of the most beautiful and delicate possibilities, and that, somehow or other, people got from life what...
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Category： Author：H. Rider Haggard
R.M.S. Mongolia, 12th May, 1904 Mayhap, Ella, here too distance lends its enchantment, and these gallant brethren would have quarrelled over Rosamund, or even had their long swords at each other’s throat. Mayhap that Princess and heroine might have failed in the hour of her trial and never earned her saintly crown. Mayhap the good hors...
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Category： Author：Fergus Hume
“Eleven o’clock and a windy night!” might have been the cry of a mediæval watchman at that hour on the 24th July 19—.
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Category： Author：毛姆 W. Somerset Maugham
THIS book might be called also The Triumph of Love. Bertha was looking out of window, at the bleakness of the day.
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Category： Author：Carl Ewald
From the first, your interest in Carl Ewald has been kindly, gracious and insistent; as Michael Finsbury might have said, "you were his friend through thick and thin;" and it is very much due to you (not to mention Betty and Charles) that this volume has seen the light of day.
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Category： Author：Ida Dorman Morris
If you ask what motive she who loved these scenes had in essaying to portray them with pen and camera, she would reply that like the Duke of Buckingham, when visiting the scene where Anna of Austria had whispered that she loved him, let fall a precious gem that another finding it, might be happy in that charméd spot where he himself h...
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Category： Author：Les Savage
Crossing Alamo Plaza, Glenn Crawford was almost to the Manger Hotel when he became aware of Sheriff Ed Kenmare standing in the entrance to the patio. Crawford felt the hesitant break to his stride. Then, deliberately, he went on, feeling for the first time the sweat glistening on his unshaven upper lip and forming dark blue spots in th...
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Category： Author：John Habberton
TRIXY was not a babe, for she had passed her seventh birthday and was as wise and irrepressible as the only child of a loving father and mother usually becomes. Her parents and relations continued to allude to her as "the baby," and they might still be doing so had not certain of her deeds checked them, and compelled them to restrict t...
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Category： Author：Hendrik Conscience
Near the end of July, 1842, an open calèche might have been seen rolling along one of the three highways that lead from the frontiers of Holland toward Antwerp. Although the vehicle had evidently been cleaned with the utmost care, every thing about it betokened decay.
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Category： Author：novel
In a poor part of London, but not in the very poorest part—two children sat on a certain autumn evening, side by side on a doorstep. The eldest might have been ten, the youngest eight. The eldest was a girl, the youngest a boy. Drawn up in front of these children, looking into their little faces with hungry, loving, patheti...
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