Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy.
The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and began to pick his way toward the lagoon.
There are moments of great luxury in the life of a secret agent.
The regular early morning yell of horror was the sound of Arthur Dent waking up and suddenly remembering where he was.
My suffering left me sad and gloomy. Academic study and the steady, mindful practice of religion slowly brought me back to life.
It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love.
It was a feature peculiar to the colonial wars of North America that the toils and dangers of the wilderness were to be encountered before the adverse hosts could meet.
Sitting beside the road, watching the wagon mount the hill toward her, Lena thinks, 'I have come from Alabama: a fur piece. All the way from Alabama a-walking. A fur piece.'
'Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,' grumbled Jo, lying on the rug. 'It's so dreadful to be poor!' sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress.
The week before I left my family and Florida and the rest of my minor life to go to boarding school in Alabama, my mother insisted on throwing me a going-away party.
One's-self I sing, a simple separate person, Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse.
'They made a silly mistake, though,' the Professor of History said, and his smile, as Dixon watched, gradually sank beneath the surface of his features at the memory.
What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died?
At the far end of town where the Grickle-grass grows and the wind smells slow-and-sour when it blows
Apart from life, a strong constitution, and an abiding connection to the Thembu royal house, the only thing my father bestowed upon me at birth was a name, Rolihlahla.
Preparation: Take care to chop the onion fine. To keep from crying when you chop it (which is so annoying!), I suggest you place a little bit on your head.
When Augustus came out on the porch the blue pigs were eating a rattlesnake - not a very big one.
Once when I was six I saw a magnificent picture in a book about the jungle, called 'True Stories.' It showed a boa constrictor swallowing a wild beast.
My name was Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie. I was fourteen when I was murdered on December 6, 1973.
Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood. If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now.
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