Quick Excerpts, from a Library of 492 Titles

Generated 2022-07-28 13:26:50

Excerpt #1, from Through the Looking Glass, by Lewis Carroll

…that I don’t intend—” “What manner of things?” said the Queen, looking over the book (in which Alice had put “The White Knight is sliding down the poker. He balances very badly”) “That’s not a memorandum of your feelings!” There was a book lying near Alice on the table, and while she sat watching the White King (for she was still a little anxious about him, and had the ink all ready to throw over him, in case he fainted again), she turned over the leaves, to find some part that she could read, “—for it’s all in some language I don’t know,” she said to herself. It was like this. .YKCOWREBBAJ sevot yhtils eht dna, gillirb sawT’ ebaw eht ni elbmig dna eryg diD ,sevogorob eht erew ysmim llA .ebargtuo shtar emom eht dnA She puzzled over this for some time, but at last a bright thought struck her. “Why, it’s a Looking-glass book, of course! And if I hold it up to a glass, the words will all go the right way again.” This was the poem that Alice read. JABBERWOCKY. ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves…

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Excerpt #2, from The Astral Plane, by C. W. Leadbeater

…teaching given through our great founder, Madame Blavatsky, on the subject of some at least of the seven principles of man. In regarding his fellow-man he no longer sees only his outer appearance; exactly co-extensive with that physical body he clearly distinguishes the etheric double, which in Theosophical literature has usually been called the Linga Sharîra; while the Jîva, as it is absorbed and specialized into Prâna, as it circulates in rosy light throughout the body, as it eventually radiates from the healthy person in its altered form, is also perfectly obvious. Most brilliant and most easily seen of all, perhaps, though belonging to quite a different order of matter–the astral–is the kâmic aura, which expresses by its vivid and ever-changing flashes of colour the different desires which sweep across the man’s mind from moment to moment. This is the true astral body. Behind that, and consisting of a finer grade of matter–that of the rûpa levels of Devachan–lies the devachanic body or aura of the lower Manas, whose colours, changing only by slow degrees as the man lives his life, show the disposition and character of the personality; while still higher and infinitely more beautiful, where at all clearly developed, is the living light of the Kârana Sharîra, the aura or vehicle of the higher Manas, which shows the stage of development of the real Ego in its passage from birth to birth. But to see these the…

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Excerpt #3, from A Sub and a Submarine: The Story of H.M. Submarine R19 in the Great War

…the rusty iron knocker. CHAPTER XXII When the Light Failed After considerable delay the door was opened ajar by a diminutive, white-haired old man, who demanded in a quavering voice the names and business of the callers. “We wish to see M. Vladimir Klostivitch on private affairs,” replied the Sub. “It is useless to give one’s names, for we are unknown to your master. You can inform him that we are comrades from England.” “I am Vladimir Klostivitch,” announced the old man. “Be pleased to enter.” “I am sorry to have made a mistake,” said Fordyce apologetically. “It is nothing,” rejoined Klostivitch. “Can I offer you tea? Excuse the fact that I am alone in the house. Please be seated.” The room into which Fordyce and his companion were shown was a large low-ceilinged place, devoid of a fire-place. It was well heated, warmth being obtained by means of a large closed-in stove in the centre of the room, over which was a bed-box, similar to those extensively used by the muzhiks in the smaller towns and villages of central Russia. The furniture consisted of a massive table, two arm-chairs and a few smaller ones, a plain sideboard, and a tall…

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Excerpt #4, from Something New, by P. G. Wodehouse

…nothing the English upper servant so abhors as vulgarity. That was what the steward’s room was trying to make up its mind about. Then Miss Willoughby threw her shapely head back and the squeal of her laughter smote the ceiling. And at that the company made its decision. Everybody laughed. Everybody urged Ashe to give an encore. Everybody was his friend and admirer—everybody but Beach, the butler. Beach, the butler, was shocked to his very core. His heavy-lidded eyes rested on Ashe with disapproval. It seemed to Beach, the butler, that this young man Marson had got above himself. * * * Ashe found Joan at his side. Dinner was over and the diners were making for the housekeeper’s room. “Thank you, Mr. Marson. That was very good of you and very clever.” Her eyes twinkled. “But what a terrible chance you took! You have made yourself a popular success, but you might just as easily have become a social outcast. As it is, I am afraid Mr. Beach did not approve.” “I’m afraid he didn’t. In a minute or so I’m going to fawn on him and make all well.” Joan lowered her voice….

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Excerpt #5, from Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott

…words. His very clothes seemed to partake of the hospitable nature of the wearer. They looked as if they were at ease, and liked to make him comfortable. His capacious waistcoat was suggestive of a large heart underneath. His rusty coat had a social air, and the baggy pockets plainly proved that little hands often went in empty and came out full. His very boots were benevolent, and his collars never stiff and raspy like other people’s. “That’s it!” said Jo to herself, when she at length discovered that genuine good will toward one’s fellow men could beautify and dignify even a stout German teacher, who shoveled in his dinner, darned his own socks, and was burdened with the name of Bhaer. Jo valued goodness highly, but she also possessed a most feminine respect for intellect, and a little discovery which she made about the Professor added much to her regard for him. He never spoke of himself, and no one ever knew that in his native city he had been a man much honored and esteemed for learning and integrity, till a countryman came to see him. He never spoke of himself, and in a conversation with Miss Norton divulged the pleasing fact. From her Jo learned it, and liked it all the better because Mr. Bhaer had never told it. She felt proud to know that he was an honored Professor in Berlin, though only a poor…

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Excerpt #6, from An Universal Dictionary of the Marine, by William Falconer

…which is always on the side opposite to the top-block e. To the lower end of the top-rope is fixed the top-tackle h, the effort of which being transmitted to the top-rope d, and thence to the heel of the top-mast f, necessarily lifts the latter upwards, parallel to the lower-mast. When the top-mast is raised to its proper height, fig. 3. the lower end of it becomes firmly wedged in the square hole, above described, between the tressel-trees. A bar of wood, or iron, called the fid, is then thrust through a hole i in the heel of it, across the tressel-trees, by which the whole weight of the top-mast is supported. In the same manner as the top-mast is retained at the head of the lower-mast, the top-gallant-mast is erected, and fixed at the head of the top-mast. Besides the parts already mentioned in the construction of masts, with respect to their length, the lower-masts of the largest ships are composed of several pieces united into one body. As these are generally the most substantial parts of various trees, a mast, formed by this assemblage, is justly esteemed much stronger than one consisting of any single trunk, whose internal solidity may be very uncertain. The several pieces are formed and joined together, as represented in the section of a lower-mast of this sort, fig. 4. plate VI. where a is the shaft, or principal piece into which the rest are fixed, with their sides or faces…

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Excerpt #7, from The 1992 CIA World Factbook, by United States. Central Intelligence Agency

…Comparative area: slightly larger than New York State Land boundaries: 1,231 km total; Costa Rica 309 km, Honduras 922 km Coastline: 910 km Maritime claims: Contiguous zone: 25 nm security zone (status of claim uncertain) Continental shelf: not specified Territorial sea: 200 nm Disputes: territorial disputes with Colombia over the Archipelago de San Andres y Providencia and Quita Sueno Bank; unresolved maritime boundary in Golfo de Fonseca Climate: tropical in lowlands, cooler in highlands Terrain: extensive Atlantic coastal plains rising to central interior mountains;…

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Excerpt #8, from Meditations, by Emperor of Rome Marcus Aurelius

…XII. What those things are in themselves, which by the greatest part are esteemed good, thou mayest gather even from this. For if a man shall hear things mentioned as good, which are really good indeed, such as are prudence, temperance, justice, fortitude, after so much heard and conceived, he cannot endure to hear of any more, for the word good is properly spoken of them. But as for those which by the vulgar are esteemed good, if he shall hear them mentioned as good, he doth hearken for more. He is well contented to hear, that what is spoken by the comedian, is but familiarly and popularly spoken, so that even the vulgar apprehend the difference. For why is it else, that this offends not and needs not to be excused, when virtues are styled good: but that which is spoken in commendation of wealth, pleasure, or honour, we entertain it only as merrily and pleasantly spoken? Proceed therefore, and inquire further, whether it may not be that those things also which being mentioned upon the stage were merrily, and with great applause of the multitude, scoffed at with this jest, that they that possessed them had not in all the world of their own, (such was their affluence and plenty) so much as a place where to avoid their excrements. Whether, I say, those ought not also in very deed to be much respected, and esteemed of, as the only things that are truly good. XIII. All that I consist of, is either form or matter. No corruption…

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Excerpt #9, from A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens

…in his place, as a physician, whose business was with all degrees of mankind, bond and free, rich and poor, bad and good, he used his personal influence so wisely, that he was soon the inspecting physician of three prisons, and among them of La Force. He could now assure Lucie that her husband was no longer confined alone, but was mixed with the general body of prisoners; he saw her husband weekly, and brought sweet messages to her, straight from his lips; sometimes her husband himself sent a letter to her (though never by the Doctor’s hand), but she was not permitted to write to him: for, among the many wild suspicions of plots in the prisons, the wildest of all pointed at emigrants who were known to have made friends or permanent connections abroad. This new life of the Doctor’s was an anxious life, no doubt; still, the sagacious Mr. Lorry saw that there was a new sustaining pride in it. Nothing unbecoming tinged the pride; it was a natural and worthy one; but he observed it as a curiosity. The Doctor knew, that up to that time, his imprisonment had been associated in the minds of his daughter and his friend, with his personal affliction, deprivation, and weakness. Now that this was changed, and he knew himself to be invested through that old trial with forces to which they both looked for Charles’s ultimate safety and deliverance, he became so far exalted by the change, that he took the lead and direction, and required them as the weak, to…

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Excerpt #10, from Walden, and On The Duty Of Civil Disobedience, by Henry David Thoreau

…according to the spirit of our institutions; and I am confident that, as our circumstances are more flourishing, our means are greater than the nobleman’s. New England can hire all the wise men in the world to come and teach her, and board them round the while, and not be provincial at all. That is the uncommon school we want. Instead of noblemen, let us have noble villages of men. If it is necessary, omit one bridge over the river, go round a little there, and throw one arch at least over the darker gulf of ignorance which surrounds us. Sounds But while we are confined to books, though the most select and classic, and read only particular written languages, which are themselves but dialects and provincial, we are in danger of forgetting the language which all things and events speak without metaphor, which alone is copious and standard. Much is published, but little printed. The rays which stream through the shutter will be no longer remembered when the shutter is wholly removed. No method nor discipline can supersede the necessity of being forever on the alert. What is a course of history, or philosophy, or poetry, no matter how well selected, or the best society, or the most admirable routine of life, compared with the discipline of looking always at what is to be seen? Will you be a reader, a student merely, or a seer? Read your fate, see what is before…

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Excerpt #11, from The Valley of the Moon, by Jack London

…Mercedes dropped the lid and shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows? I shall rest well.” “And punishment?” Saxon probed, remembering the unthinkable tale of the other’s life. “Impossible, my dear. As some old poet said, ‘God’s a good fellow.’ Some time I shall talk to you about God. Never be afraid of him. Be afraid only of the salt vats and the things men may do with your pretty flesh after you are dead.” CHAPTER VII Billy quarreled with good fortune. He suspected he was too prosperous on the wages he received. What with the accumulating savings account, the paying of the monthly furniture installment and the house rent, the spending money in pocket, and the good fare he was eating, he was puzzled as to how Saxon managed to pay for the goods used in her fancy work. Several times he had suggested his inability to see how she did it, and been baffled each time by Saxon’s mysterious laugh. “I can’t see how you do it on the money,” he was contending one evening. He opened his mouth to speak further, then closed it and for five minutes thought with knitted brows. “Say,” he said, “what’s become of that frilly breakfast cap you was workin’ on so hard, I ain’t never seen you wear it, and it was sure too…

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Excerpt #12, from The Talking Horse, and Other Tales, by F. Anstey

…punishment was sufficient already, for, of course, I guessed that she had only accepted the Colonel under the first intolerable sting of desertion. No: I reserved all my wrath for Brutus, who had betrayed me at the moment of triumph. I planned revenge. Cost what it might I would ride him once more. In the eyes of the law I was his master. I would exercise my legal rights to the full. The afternoon came at last. I was in a white heat of anger, though as I ascended to the saddle there were bystanders who put a more uncharitable construction upon my complexion. Brutus cast an uneasy eye at my heels as we started: ‘What are those things you’ve got on?’ he inquired. ‘Spurs,’ I replied curtly. ‘You shouldn’t wear them till you have learnt to turn your toes in,’ he said. ‘And a whip, too! May I ask what that is for?’ ‘We will discuss that presently,’ I said very coldly; for I did not want to have a scene with my horse in the street. When we came round by the statue of Achilles and on to the Ride, I shortened my reins, and got a better hold of the whip, while I found that, from some cause I cannot explain, the roof of my mouth grew uncomfortably dry. ’I should be glad of a little quiet talk with you, if you’ve no…

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