The following are the first sentences of ten of my favorite books (not necessarily in order). See if you can guess them.
If some remain unguessed by this time tomorrow, I'll add the second line, and so forth each day. In cases where the first line was just too flipping obvious, I start
with the second line; I'll note where I do this.1) It has now been a mere two score of years since we had the honor to have our work, Toward Beginning a Survey of Some Events Contributing to the Fall of the Empire, rejected by Lord Tri'ari and Master Vrei of the Institute.
- The Phoenix Guards
, by Steven Brust (guessed by bugen
Second line, not the first: 2) For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of year.
- Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
, by J.K. Rowling (guessed by jordanis
)3) The naked child ran out of the hide-covered lean-to toward the rocky beach at the bend in the small river.
- The Clan of the Cave Bear
, by Jean M. Auel (guessed by zerodotjander
)4) It was a dull autumn day and Jill Pole was crying behind the gym.
- The Silver Chair
, by C.S. Lewis (guessed by jordanis
)5) Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tidewater dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego.
- The Call of the Wild
, by Jack London (guessed by urbankotq
Extended after 24 hours: 6) It was love at first sight. The first time Yossarian saw the chaplain he fell madly in love with him.
, by Joseph Heller (guessed by bugen
)7) "I've watched through his eyes, I've listened through his ears, and I tell you he's the one."
- Ender's Game
, by Orson Scott Card (guessed by bugen
)8) Once upon a time in Westphalia, in the castle of Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh, there lived a young boy whom nature had endowed with the gentlest of dispositions.
, by Voltaire (guessed by jordanis
)9) This is the bright candlelit room where the life-timers are stored -- shelf upon shelf of them, squat hourglasses, one for every living person, pouring their fine sand from the future into the past.
, by Terry Pratchett (guessed by jordanis
)10) Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York; and all the clouds that lour'd upon our house in the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
- Richard III
, by William Shakespeare (guessed by jordanis
, who's kicking all your butts)