First Line | Book |
In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. | |
Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he stayed up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. | |
I am forced into speech because men of science have refused to follow my advice without knowing why. | |
It was a bright, cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. | |
You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. | |
'What's it going to be then, eh?' | |
It was a pleasure to burn. | |
The stranger came early in February one wintry day, [...] walking as it seemed from Bramblehurst railway station and carrying a little black portmanteau in his thickly gloved hand. | |
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. | |
It is a little remarkable, that—though disinclined to talk much of myself [...]—an autobiographical impulse should [...] have taken possession of me, in addressing the public. | |
| First Line | Book |
No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched [...] by intelligences greater than man and yet as mortal as his own. | |
The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails, and was at rest. | |
Left Munich at 8:35 P. M, on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but train was an hour late. | |
Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable. | |
They're out there. | |
Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the popholes. | |
Marley was dead: to begin with. | |
Tyler gets me a job as a waiter, after that Tyler's pushing a gun in my mouth and saying, the first step to eternal life is you have to die. | |
The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and began to pick his way toward the lagoon. | |
Call me Ishmael. | |
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