Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:26:18

Excerpt #1, from An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, by David Hume

…idea in our imagination. This influence of the will we know by consciousness. Hence we acquire the idea of power or energy; and are certain, that we ourselves and all other intelligent beings are possessed of power. This idea, then, is an idea of reflection, since it arises from reflecting on the operations of our own mind, and on the command which is exercised by will, both over the organs of the body and faculties of the soul. 52. We shall proceed to examine this pretension; and first with regard to the influence of volition over the organs of the body. This influence, we may observe, is a fact, which, like all other natural events, can be known only by experience, and can never be foreseen from any apparent energy or power in the cause, which connects it with the effect, and renders the one an infallible consequence of the other. The motion of our body follows upon the command of our will. Of this we are every moment conscious. But the means, by which this is effected; the energy, by which the will performs so extraordinary an operation; of this we are so far from being immediately conscious, that it must for ever escape our most diligent enquiry. For first; is there any principle in all nature more mysterious than the union of soul with body; by which a supposed spiritual substance acquires such an influence over a material one, that the most refined…

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Excerpt #2, from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, by L. Frank Baum

…Of course this was a bad thing for the Scarecrow. “I am now worse off than when I first met Dorothy,” he thought. “Then, I was stuck on a pole in a cornfield, where I could make believe scare the crows, at any rate; but surely there is no use for a Scarecrow stuck on a pole in the middle of a river. I am afraid I shall never have any brains, after all!” [Illustration] Down the stream the raft floated, and the poor Scarecrow was left far behind. Then the Lion said: “Something must be done to save us. I think I can swim to the shore and pull the raft after me, if you will only hold fast to the tip of my tail.” [Illustration] So he sprang into the water and the Tin Woodman caught fast hold of his tail, when the Lion began to swim with all his might toward the shore. It was hard work, although he was so big; but by and by they were drawn out of the current, and then Dorothy took the Tin Woodman’s long pole and helped push the raft to the land. They were all tired out when they reached the shore at last and stepped off upon the pretty green grass, and they also knew that the stream had carried them a long way past the road of yellow brick that…

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Excerpt #3, from The Aztec Treasure

…I tried afterwards to measure it, and found that for craniological purposes it was utterly valueless. Even had I required Pablo’s aid in this encounter he could not possibly have given it to me, for he was himself just then very hotly engaged. Indeed, but for assistance that come to him from an unexpected quarter his life assuredly would have been lost. He was in the act of hauling back to strike at the fellow facing him, and he did not at all know that he was in imminent danger of a thrust in the back from a wounded wretch who, having struggled upon his knees, was using what little life was left in him to deliver yet another blow. Just at this critical instant it was that Fray Antonio dashed into the thick of the fighting, and covered Pablo’s body with his own against this assault in the rear; so that, as the Indian struck, the knife only cut through the monk’s habit and slightly scratched his arm, instead of making a hole between Pablo’s shoulder-blades that would have let the life out of him. Young, who was close beside Pablo, saw what was going on, and checked it before further harm was done by turning quickly and shooting off the top of the wounded Indian’s head; and then Fray Antonio retired out of the fighting in which, without himself striking a blow, he had taken so gallant a part. So far as I was concerned, the fight was at an end when I had so cleverly mashed the head of my second assailant. No more Indians came at…

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Excerpt #4, from The Moon: considered as a planet, a world, and a satellite., by James Carpenter et al.

…distinguished as Monte Somma became a subsidiary portion of the whole mountain. Then the appearance was that shown in Fig. 19, and which does not differ greatly from that presented in the present day. The summit of the Vesuvian cone, however, has been variously altered; it has been blown away, leaving a large crateral hollow, and it has rebuilt itself nearly upon its former model. When we transfer our attention to the volcanoes of the moon, we find ourselves not quite so well favoured with means for studying the process of their formation; for the sight of the building up of a volcanic mountain such as man has been permitted to behold upon the earth has not been allowed to an observer of the moon. The volcanic activity, enfeebled though it now be, of which we are witnesses from time to time on the earth, has altogether ceased upon our satellite, and left us only its effects as a clue to the means by which they were produced. If we in our time could have seen the actual throwing up of a lunar crater, our task of description would have been simple; as it is we are compelled to infer the constructive action from scrutiny of the finished structure. We can scarcely doubt that where a lunar crater bears general resemblance to a terrestrial crater, the process of formation has been nearly the same in the one case as in the other. Where variations present themselves they may reasonably be ascribed to the difference of…

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Excerpt #5, from The Problems of Philosophy, by Bertrand Russell

…characteristics which show, or tend to show, that there are in the world things other than ourselves and our private experiences. In one sense it must be admitted that we can never prove the existence of things other than ourselves and our experiences. No logical absurdity results from the hypothesis that the world consists of myself and my thoughts and feelings and sensations, and that everything else is mere fancy. In dreams a very complicated world may seem to be present, and yet on waking we find it was a delusion; that is to say, we find that the sense-data in the dream do not appear to have corresponded with such physical objects as we should naturally infer from our sense-data. (It is true that, when the physical world is assumed, it is possible to find physical causes for the sense-data in dreams: a door banging, for instance, may cause us to dream of a naval engagement. But although, in this case, there is a physical cause for the sense-data, there is not a physical object corresponding to the sense-data in the way in which an actual naval battle would correspond.) There is no logical impossibility in the supposition that the whole of life is a dream, in which we ourselves create all the objects that come before us. But although this is not logically impossible, there is no reason whatever to suppose that it is true; and it is, in fact, a less simple hypothesis, viewed as a means of accounting for the facts of our own life, than the common-sense…

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Excerpt #6, from Weather, Crops, and Markets. Vol. 2, No. 6, by Anonymous

…totaling more than 700 cars. Nearly 1,300 cars have already come from that State this season. Arkansas sent almost 600 cars to market during the week. Movement from Georgia decreased about 70%!,(MISSING) but the season is becoming very active in Illinois, Tennessee, and Oklahoma, as well as in the Middle Atlantic sections. Early varieties from eastern States sold in leading wholesale markets at $1.50‒$2 per bu. Tennessee Elbertas ranged as high as $3‒$3.25 in Cincinnati and Cleveland, but were $1 lower in Chicago because of the oversupplied market. PRICES OF FRUITS AND VEGETABLES. Jobbing Range. POTATOES, Virginia Eastern Shore Irish Cobblers, No. 1—Barrels. ─────────────┬────────────┬─────────────────────────────┬────────────── Market. │ Week’s │ │ │ carlot │ │ │ arrivals. │ This season. │One year ago. ─────────────┼────────────┼──────────────┬──────────────┼────────────── │ │ July 31. │ July 24. │ ─────────────┼────────────┼──────────────┼──────────────┼────────────── New York │ 447│ $1.50‒1.75│ $2.75‒3.00│ $4.25‒4.50 Boston │ 168│ 2.75‒3.00│ 3.75‒4.00│ 5.25‒5.50 Philadelphia │ 160│ 1.50‒1.75│ 2.50‒2.65│ 4.00‒4.50…

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Excerpt #7, from The Story of King Arthur and his Knights, by Howard Pyle

…[Sidenote: The Duke of North Umber refuseth the combat.] And when the Duke of North Umber had come nigh enough, he perceived that the chiefest of those five knights was the White Champion who had aforetime overthrown him. Wherefore he said unto that White Champion: “Sir Knight, I have once before condescended unto thee who art altogether unknown to me or to anybody else that is here. For without inquiring concerning thy quality, I ran a course with thee and, lo! by the chance of arms thou didst overthrow me. Now this quarrel is more serious than that, wherefore I and my companions-at-arms will not run a course with thee and thy companions; nor will we fight with thee until I first know what is the quality of him against whom I contend. Wherefore, I bid thee presently declare thyself, who thou art and what is thy condition.” Then Sir Gawaine opened the umbril of his helmet, and he said: “Sir Knight, behold my face, and know that I am Gawaine, the son of King Lot. Wherefore thou mayst perceive that my condition and estate are even better than thine own. Now I do declare unto thee that yonder White Knight is of such a quality that he condescends unto thee when he doeth combat with thee, and that thou dost not condescend unto him.” “Ho, Sir Gawaine!” quoth the Duke of Umber. “What thou sayest is a very strange thing, for, indeed, there are few in this world who are so…

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Excerpt #8, from Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson

…confusion, threw himself on his knees and held out his clasped hands in supplication. At that I once more stopped. “Who are you?” I asked. “Ben Gunn,” he answered, and his voice sounded hoarse and awkward, like a rusty lock. “I’m poor Ben Gunn, I am; and I haven’t spoke with a Christian these three years.” I could now see that he was a white man like myself and that his features were even pleasing. His skin, wherever it was exposed, was burnt by the sun; even his lips were black, and his fair eyes looked quite startling in so dark a face. Of all the beggar-men that I had seen or fancied, he was the chief for raggedness. He was clothed with tatters of old ship’s canvas and old sea-cloth, and this extraordinary patchwork was all held together by a system of the most various and incongruous fastenings, brass buttons, bits of stick, and loops of tarry gaskin. About his waist he wore an old brass-buckled leather belt, which was the one thing solid in his whole accoutrement. “Three years!” I cried. “Were you shipwrecked?” “Nay, mate,” said he; “marooned.” I had heard the word, and I knew it stood for a horrible kind of punishment common enough among the buccaneers, in which the offender…

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Excerpt #9, from Anne of the Island, by L. M. Montgomery

…minister at all.” “But if you had to?” persisted Dora. “I’d call it a Thomas pussy,” said Davy. “I think ‘gentleman cat’ would be more polite,” reflected Dora. “You thinking!” retorted Davy with withering scorn. Davy was not feeling comfortable, though he would have died before he admitted it to Dora. Now that the exhilaration of truant delights had died away, his conscience was beginning to give him salutary twinges. After all, perhaps it would have been better to have gone to Sunday School and church. Mrs. Lynde might be bossy; but there was always a box of cookies in her kitchen cupboard and she was not stingy. At this inconvenient moment Davy remembered that when he had torn his new school pants the week before, Mrs. Lynde had mended them beautifully and never said a word to Marilla about them. But Davy’s cup of iniquity was not yet full. He was to discover that one sin demands another to cover it. They had dinner with Mrs. Lynde that day, and the first thing she asked Davy was, “Were all your class in Sunday School today?” “Yes’m,” said Davy with a gulp. “All were there—’cept one.” “Did you say your Golden Text and catechism?” “Yes’m.”…

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Excerpt #10, from The Art of Conversation: Twelve Golden Rules, by Josephine Turck Baker

…story-telling. It seems to me that if one would entertain one’s friends now and then with a good story, it would enliven what would otherwise be a very dull occasion. She.–Story-tellers–good story-tellers–are probably born, not made; and yet, the person who is not especially gifted in this art, may succeed in entertaining his listeners, provided that he has wit enough to remember the “point,” and to couch his language so that the dénouement is not surmised, for surprise is an important element in the telling of a story. He.–Occasionally, I hear a good story, and one that I wish to remember, but I can never trust myself to repeat it for fear that I shall commit the flagrant sin of missing the “point”; and that omission would, of course, be unpardonable. She.–I think you might become a very successful reconteur, if you would give some attention to the art in question. Of course, the important thing to remember is, what are the essentials, to omit all unnecessary details, to keep the listener in suspense and, above all, not to omit the point. We can not all be Charles Lambs nor Sydney Smiths, but we can each have our little store of “funnycisms” from which to draw when the occasion is opportune, or the story relevant. He.–Well, I suppose we must decide that one must be a good listener…

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Excerpt #11, from Project Gutenberg Compilation of Short Stories, by Chekhov, by Chekhov

…“Send for him, the fool!” Kuzma Lebyodkin from Warsaw soon made his appearance. He stopped in a respectful attitude at the door and asked: “What are your orders, your honor?” “Hold your tongue!” cried Fyodor, and stamped his foot. “Don’t dare to argue; remember your place as a cobbler! Blockhead! You don’t know how to make boots! I’ll beat your ugly phiz to a jelly! Why have you come?” “For money.” “What money? Be off! Come on Saturday! Boy, give him a cuff!” But he at once recalled what a life the customers used to lead him, too, and he felt heavy at heart, and to distract his attention he took a fat pocketbook out of his pocket and began counting his money. There was a great deal of money, but Fyodor wanted more still. The devil in the blue spectacles brought him another notebook fatter still, but he wanted even more; and the more he counted it, the more discontented he became. In the evening the evil one brought him a full-bosomed lady in a red dress, and said that this was his new wife. He spent the whole evening kissing her and eating gingerbreads, and at night he went to bed on a soft, downy feather-bed, turned from side to side, and could not go to sleep. He felt uncanny. “We have a great deal of money,” he said to his wife; “we must look out…

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Excerpt #12, from Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy, by Anonymous

…had a dead calm.–We endeavored to row, but our strength was exhausted. A fourth and last distribution was made, and in the twinkling of an eye, our last resources were consumed. We were forty-two people who had to feed upon six biscuits and about four pints of water, with no hope of a farther supply. Then came the moment for deciding whether we were to perish among the breakers, which defended the approach to the shores of the Desert, or to die of famine in continuing our route.–The majority preferred the last species of misery. We continued our progress along the shore, painfully pulling our oars. Upon the beach were distinguished several downs of white sand and some small trees. We were thus creeping along the coast, observing a mournful silence, when a sailor suddenly exclaimed, behold the Moors! We did, in fact, see various individuals upon the rising ground, walking at a quick pace, and whom we took to be the Arabs of the Desert. As we were very near the shore, we stood farther out to sea, fearing that these pretended Moors, or Arabs, would throw themselves into the sea, swim out, and take us. Some hours after, we observed several people upon an eminence, who seemed to make signals for us. We examined them attentively, and soon recognized them to be our companions in misfortune. We replied to them by attaching a white…

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