Maurice, by E.M. Forster
> Yes, he was in luck, no doubt of it. Scudder had proved honest and kind. He was lovely to be with, a treasure, a charmer, »
The Eye in the Door, by Pat Barker
> 'The poison was for the dogs.' > 'There weren't any fucking dogs. You might not know that, but she does. »
Portrait of a Lady, by Henry James
> It was in the “office” still that Isabel was sitting on that melancholy afternoon of early spring which I have just mentioned. At this time »
The Aleph, by Jorge Luis Borges Translation by Borges & Norman Thomas Di Giovanni
> On the burning February morning Beatriz Viterbo died, after braving an agony that never for a single moment gave way to self-pity or fear, I »
Howard's End, by E.M. Forster
> As they were seated at Aunt Juley's breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a »