Found 2,748 results for "Hall, H. R."
by Anne Brontë
You must go back with me to the autumn of 1827.
by H. G. Wells
The Utopia of a modern dreamer must needs differ in one fundamental aspect from the Nowheres and Utopias men planned bef...
by D. H. Lawrence
OURS is essentially a tragic age but we refuse emphatically to be tragic about it.
by H. G. Wells
on February the 1st, 1887, the Lady Vain was lost by collision with a derelict when about the latitude 1° S. and longitu...
by H. G. Wells
NO ONE would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and clos...
by Eleanor Hodgman Porter, Porter
Miss Polly Harrington entered her kitchen a little hurriedly this June morning.
by Aristotle
THE science which has to do with nature clearly concerns itself for the most part with bodies and magnitudes and their p...
by Arthur Conan Doyle
Mr. Sherlock Holmes, der sehr spät am Morgen aufzustehen pflegte (außer bei den gar nicht seltenen Gelegenheiten, da er ...
by Charles Dickens
WHETHER I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by any body else, these pag...
by Samuel Pepys
Samuel Pepys, the author of the Diary here presented to the reader was descended from the family of Pepys originally sea...
by Kenneth Grahame
The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring cleaning his little home.
by Nathaniel Hawthorne
A THRONG of bearded men, in sad-colored garments and gray, steeple-crowned hats intermixed with women, some wearing hood...
by Spyri, Johanna
IN a small Swiss town in the shadow of the mountains is a path that leads, straight and steep, into the Alps.
by Willa Cather
FIRST HEARD of Antonia on what seemed to me an interminable journey across the great midland plain of North America.
by William Shakespeare
[Enter two Sentinels first, Francisco, who paces up and down at his post; then Bernardo, who approaches him.]
by Oscar Wilde
When Mr. Hiram B. Otis, the American minister, bought Canterville Chase, every one told him he was doing a very foolish ...
by Agatha Christie
OLD Lanscombe moved totteringly from room to room, pulling up the blinds.