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What are the first few sentences on page 51 of the book nearest you?

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  • Charlie seemed to already be in a good mood when he got home. He didn't even go out of his way to be rude to Edward. Edward excused himself from eating with us, as usual.
    Muahahaaa Eclipse is awesome!
    Dif-tor heh smusma.

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    • 'The fig leaf,' said Groat quickly. 'That's what we call it.'
      'Why's he got a leaf there?' said Stanley.
      'Oh, they all had 'em in the olden days, 'cos of being Classical,' said Groat, relieved to be shjifting away from the heart of the matter. 'It's a fig leaf. Off a fig tree.'
      Haha, you can't beat Terry Pratchett. This one isGoing Postal.
      "If his grin was any wider the top of his head would have fallen off"
      -Terry Pratchett
      Candyman Jr, Master Procrastinator, Joe Green, Vashmata, Master of Technology

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      • "Are you sure that I drove there?" asked Stuart weakly, although he knew the answer even as he asked the question. Irene would remember exactly; she always did.

        For a few moments there was complete silence. The Irene spoke. "I saw you get into it," she said. "You waved goodbye and drove off. So what does this mean?"

        When Stuart replied his voice was barely audible. "Then it's still in Glasgow," he said. He waved a hand in a westerly direction. "Somewhere over there."

        Irene's tone was icy. "You mean that you have left the car--our car--in Glasgow? That it's been there for several months? And you completely forgot about it?"...
        Espresso Tales by Alexander McCall Smith. Must've been all the talk about Edinburgh and Glasgow that's made me pick up the "44 Scotland Street" series again... This series is set in Edinburgh and was (and continues) to be written by McCall Smith serially in The Scotsman newspaper. He started doing it because while visiting California, he'd been invited to dinner by Maxine Hong Kingston and Armistead Maupin had been there and McCall Smith had talked to him about Tales of the City, which Maupin had (famously) written serially for the San Francisco Chronicle. And when he'd gotten back home, he'd said or written something about what a shame it was that one of the Scottish newspapers wouldn't publish something that way, and The Scotsman took him up on the challenge.

        BTW, McCall Smith writes four different series, and amazingly somehow manages to churn out four books a year. His most famous is The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency about a female private detective in Botswana. But he also writes the Isabel Dalhousie series (about a philosopher/editor in Edinburgh), the Portuguese Irregular Verbs series, about Prof. Dr. Mortiz-Maria von Igelfeld and the hilarious adventures he gets into in the rarified world of academic Romance Philology (no, really, it is funny). And the 44 Scotland Street series, about a group of people who live in a house in Edinburgh. I enjoy each and every one thoroughly. He's a very human, funny, and wry writer with an eye for the absurdity and truths of simply being human.

        I have got to find his kids' books...
        New to the board? Please take the time to read the YW Board-Specific Rules, or Why We're Not Like Other Boards FAQ.

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        • The assassin pulled up short and considered his own thoughts, surprised by his intrest,
          "So the roumors are true," the woman said, and he was close enough to hear. "A droe elf."
          "My reputation precedes me," Jarlaxle said. He flashed a disarming grin and dipped another of his patented bows. "Jarlaxle at, your service, milady."

          - Promise of the Witch-King, By R.A. Salvatore

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          • ok, so I finally found a new book. I know you are only supposed to post the first few lines, but I thinks its hilariously stupid so I'll post the whole page. It's called World's Dumbest Crooks.

            When a driver gets into an accident, he files a claim with his insurance company, which usually helps pay for any damages. Here are some wacky excuses from drivers, taken from actual claim forms and published in theToronto Sun:
            ~Coming home, I drove into the wrong driveway and collided into a tree I don't have.
            ~The other car collided with mine without giving warning of its intentions.
            ~The pedestrian (a person who is walking) had no idea which way to run, so I ran over him.
            ~The driver was all over the road; I had to swerve a number of times before I hit (his car).
            ~In my attempt to kill a fly, I drove into a telephone pole.
            ~An invisible car came out of nowhere, struck my car, and vanished.
            ~I thought my window was down, but I found out that it was up when I put my head through it.
            ~I was thrown from the car as it left the road. I was later found in a ditch by some stray cows.
            ~The telephone pole was approaching. I was attempting to swerve out of its way when it struck the front end.
            I just thinks they are very funny. Do you?

            WOOT! my 40th post!
            ~We're the kinda friends that kill each other for a handful of Doritos and in the end we don't say sorry we say Haha! Too bad!!~. Errors have been made. Others will be blamed.

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            • My brother said that Going Postal is one of the newest books, and I need to read some of the previous ones (they have minor plot links) first, so I'm reading Maskerade on a pdf file. I'm guessing this is page 51:

              With great difficulty and much shouting and untangling of ropes far above,
              the figure was lowered to the stage.
              He was soaked in paint and turpentine. The swelling audience of off duty
              staff and rehearsal truants crowded in around him.
              Agnes knelt down, loosened his collar and tried to unwind the rope that had
              caught around arm and neck.
              'Does anyone know him?' she said.
              "If his grin was any wider the top of his head would have fallen off"
              -Terry Pratchett
              Candyman Jr, Master Procrastinator, Joe Green, Vashmata, Master of Technology

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              • This isn't my book.. it's my sister's but it's the closest one to me sooo...

                -I went home, sir, said Stephen, and Father Arnall said I am not to study till they come.
                -Quite right! said the rector.
                Stephen swallowed down the thing again and tried to keep his legs and voice from shaking.

                A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce

                Never read it. Like I said it's my sister's.
                Time passes. Even when it seems impossible.
                Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise.
                It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.
                Check out my video: LET GO

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                • "In the sixth year his turn of escape came again; he tried it, but failed again. He did not answer at roll-call, and the alarm cannon was fired. At night the people of the vicinity discovered him hidden beneath the keel of a vessel on the stocks; he resisted the galley guard which seized him. Escape and resistance."

                  Les Miserables
                  Victor Hugo

                  Poor Valjean.
                  just let your heart take over and sign with a flourish

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                  • Be warned. This is a negative review on 'Les Miz':

                    Sigh. I didn't like those books. They were way too depressing. And they were in French. And I had to read them as homework. It's a good thing we got the abbreviated book, or our heads would explode by the droning which takes up most of the book. That's on page 51? That isn't even the beginning of the story. That's like an introduction.

                    Review on the book 'Les misérables' par Victor Hugo, by me.

                    You have the long version, don't you?
                    "If his grin was any wider the top of his head would have fallen off"
                    -Terry Pratchett
                    Candyman Jr, Master Procrastinator, Joe Green, Vashmata, Master of Technology

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                    • pg 51 is a map. This is one of my fav. pages, pg 260.

                      "For Emos, changing his appearance to that of a Reisenick was the easy part. He clared the marking form his skin, altered the look of his clothes, gave his elbows and knees a swollen stiffness and increased the size of his hands and feet, squeezing his fingers out thinner and emphasising the knuckles."

                      The Archisan Tales: Under Fragile Stone-Oisin McGann
                      “I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.”
                      -Groucho Marx

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                      • "I was none too sure what they were, or might be in the future, but I knew that if I didn't commit myself to them, totally and honestly, I would be doing the very same thing Thymas had accused me of - betraying the Sharith."

                        Rikardon - The Gandalara Cycle - The Glass of Dyskornis - Randall Garrett and Vicki Ann Heydron 1982
                        There is Always DEEP Shadow where there is MUCH Light!
                        "I will meet the terminally clueless today...idiots and those with hairballs for brains.... I do not have to be like them, even though I would dearly love to hit them hard enough to make the empty places between their ears echo..." Rhiow - TVTQ

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                        • And there was Haverstock Hall, a great mansion with stone figures on the terrace and seven figures in the price. Sir David's family had lived there for generations, Mrs. Halverson had told him. They also seemed to own half of the countryside...
                          Keep on Flying!
                          -Mudd

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                          • Mudd, where's that from? It sounds really familiar...

                            Never mind. I digress. That's why there are editors. (Thank You.) But, here's the timeline, follow this:

                            End of February, right on schedule, I'm finally coming out of my usual post-Christmas depression. Don't ask.
                            The Strange Disappearance of David Gerrold by David Gerrold

                            I don't know, my sister got it at an anime convention. Haha.
                            Time passes. Even when it seems impossible.
                            Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise.
                            It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.
                            Check out my video: LET GO

                            Comment


                            • "I didn't" [find you] said Polly. It's an accident. I came over just to look at wolves. I never expected to you here, Wolf"
                              'The Wolf in the Zoo', from Clever Polly and the Stupid Wolf, by Catherine Storr.

                              It's by my computer because I was relaying the Wolf's variation on "Monday's Child" to my other half. (The ryhme which tradiationally starts "Monday's child is fair of face / Tuesday's child is full of grace".. but the Wolf's version starts "Monday's child is fairly tough / Tuesday's child is tender enough").
                              "Never let your sense of morals prevent you from doing what is right" - Salvor Hadrin, in Isaac Asimov's Foundation

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                              • Well its a book on the computer (well a text-file that I'm currently using one computer screen equals one page, because I've not made a pdf of it yet). Also, am including the introduction in this count which is 23 pages long. Also, sentence is a bit strange, but am measuring from one period to the next as a sentence.

                                First few lines:
                                Thus to lessen the enchantment,
                                Thus the potent charm to banish.
                                First sentence:
                                As the magic spell is broken,
                                Youkahainen, sad, but wiser,
                                Drags his feet from out the quicksand,
                                Lifts his beard from out the water,
                                From the rocks leads forth his courser,
                                Brings his sledge back from the rushes,
                                Calls his whip back from the ocean,
                                Sets his golden sledge in order,
                                Throws himself upon the cross-bench,
                                Snaps his whip and hies him homeward,
                                Hastens homeward, heavy-hearted,
                                Sad indeed to meet his mother,
                                Aino's mother, gray and aged.
                                Hmm, am curious if anyone knows what I'm reading. Is a translation of <span class="ev_code_white">The Kalevala</span>.
                                We will remember you PM. And your little GingerBear.

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