HOME > Search:Pen 
Category： Author：Louisa May Alcott
Her eyes came back from their long gaze and settled on him full of an intelligence which deepened his perplexity. "You have not learned to know me yet; death is not more inexorable or time more tireless than I.
TAG：
Category： Author：G. K. Chesterton
This is a collection of 12 totally seperate stories that are independent of each other but have one common thread. Father Brown is an amateur sleuth whose day job involves preaching to his congregation at church.
TAG：
Category： Author：Charles Dickens查尔斯·狄更斯
The pages of this little book were in type and about to be sent for correction to my sister—who had been for some months in very delicate health—when she suddenly became still more gravely ill. The hand which had traced the words of love and veneration dedicated to our father’s memory grew too feeble to hold a pen, and before the proo...
TAG：
Category： Author：Rebecca Sophia Clarke
Here is a story about the oldest of the three little Parlin girls, "sister Susy;" though so many things are always happening to Prudy that it is not possible to keep her out of the book.
TAG：
Category： Author：Owen Wister
By various influences and agents the Past is summoned before us, more vivid than a dream. The process seems as magical as those whereof we read in fairy legends, where circles are drawn, wands waved, mystic syllables pronounced.
TAG：
Category： Author：Harry Castlemon
OUR scene opens in the swamp that stretches away for miles north of Lawrence.
TAG：
Category： Author：novel
The morning sun was growing stronger as it rose higher. Collie, returning from driving his master's cow to the cool shade of the back pasture, felt its rays penetrate his shaggy coat. His tongue hung out as he padded swiftly up the garden path where already the dew was almost dried from the rows of marigolds and sweet William.
TAG：
Category： Author：J. M. Barrie
Early this morning I opened a window in my school-house in the glen of Quharity, awakened by the shivering of a starving sparrow against the frosted glass.
TAG：
Category： Author：novel
I have lost, within these last few days, a little bull-dog. He had just completed the sixth month of his brief existence. He had no history. His intelligent eyes opened to look out upon the world, to love mankind, then closed again on the cruel secrets of death.
TAG：
Category： Author：novel
All this had happened only last week, and now Reginald lay on a hospital cot in his own little room in the cottage, and Harry and Nan were waiting on the porch till the doctor should come out and they could be admitted.
TAG：
