Found 10,054 results for "Missing persons -- Fiction"
by Agatha Christie
In the afternoons it was the custom of Miss Jane Marple to unfold her second newspaper.
by Kate Chopin
A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door, kept repeating over and over: Allez vous-en!
by Franz Kafka
As Karl Rossmann, a poor boy of sixteen who had been packed off to America by his parents because a servant girl had sed...
by Harriet Beecher Stowe
Very many years ago, instead of having servants to wait upon them and work for them, people used to have slaves.
by Stephen King
Z tego, co wiem, koszmar, który nie miał się zakończyć przez całe dwadzieścia osiem lat (jeżeli w ogóle się skończył), z...
by Charles Lamb, Mary Lamb
There was a certain island in the sea, the only inhabitants of which were an old man, whose name was Prospero, and his d...
by Mark Twain
YOU DON'T know about me, without you have read a book by the name of "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer," but that ain't no m...
by Jane Austen
Jane Austen was born on December 16, 1775, in the year before the American Declaration of Independence, and she died on ...
by Charles Dickens
AMONG OTHER PUBLIC BUILDINGS IN A CERTAIN TOWN, WHICH for many reasons it will be prudent to refrain from mentioning, an...
by William Shakespeare
Enter Sampson and Gregory, with swords and bucklers, of the house of Capulet.
by Philip Pullman
Lyra and her daemon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen.
by Agatha Christie
"Tommy, old thing!" "Tuppence, old bean!" The two young people greeted each other affectionately, and momentarily blocke...
by Stephen King
Fuentes fidedigmas nos informan de que el 17 del presente se produjo una lluvia de piedras en la calle Carlin, en circun...
by H. Rider Haggard
IT is a curious thing that at my age-fifty-five last birthday-I should find myself taking up a pen to try and write a hi...
by Philip Pullman
Will tugged at his mother's hand and said, "Come on, come on..."
by John Buchan
I returned from the City about three o'clock on that May afternoon pretty well disgusted with life.
by Daniel Defoe, J. J. Grandville
I WAS born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family, though not of that country, my father being a foreig...
by Philip Pullman
In a valley shaded with rhododendrons, close to the snow line, where a stream milky with meltwater splashed and where do...