Little Dorrit

by Charles Dickens, Mary Sebag-Montefiore

THIRTY years ago, Marseilles lay burning in the sun, one day.

Dubliners

by James Joyce

THERE WAS no hope for him tins time: it was the third stroke.

John Donne Poetry

by John Donne, John Booty

Away thou fondling motley humourist,

The Handmaid's Tale

by Margaret Atwood

We slept in what had once been the gymnasium.

Bonjour tristesse

by Françoise Sagan

A STRANGE MELANCHOLY pervades me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sorrow.

Women in Love

by D. H. Lawrence

Ursula and Gudrun Brangwen sat one morning in the large window-bay of their father's house in Beldover, working and talk...

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

by Mark Twain

'Tom!' No answer.

Emma

by Jane Austen

Jane Austen was born on December 16, 1775, in the year before the American Declaration of Independence, and she died on ...

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland / Through the Looking Glass

by Lewis Carroll

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice s...

The Tale of Peter Rabbit

by Beatrix Potter

Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail and Peter lived underneath the root of a very big fir-tree.

Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus

by Mary Shelley

YOU WILL REJOICE to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with...

Anne of Windy Poplars

by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Les Trois Mousquetaires

by Alexandre Dumas, Auguste Maquet

On the first Monday of the month of April, 1625, the market town of Meung, in which the author of Romance of the Rose wa...

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

by Robert Louis Stevenson

Mr. UTTERSON the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrasse...

The Scarlet Pimpernel

by Emma Orczy

A SURGING, seething, murmuring crowd of beings that are human only in name, for to the eye and ear they seem naught but ...

A Wrinkle in Time

by Madeleine L'Engle

IT was a dark and stormy night.

The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas

by John Boyne

Daddy-Long-Legs

by Jean Webster

The first Wednesday in every month was a Perfectly Awful Day-a day to be awaited with dread, endured with courage, and f...

A Passage to India

by E. M. Forster

Except for the Marabar Caves - and they are twenty miles off - the city of Chandrapore presents nothing extraordinary.

Heart of Darkness

by Joseph Conrad

The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails, and was at rest.