Fiction Books

 read the telegram for the second time. Then I folded it up, put it in my pocket, and pressed the little button on my desk. My mind was made up.To save Imee's race of Men-Who-Returned-To-The-Sea, two Land-Men answer the challenge of the dreaded Rorn, corsairs of the under-seas."Miss Fentress, I'm leaving this afternoon on an extended trip. The Florida address will reach me after... more...

CHAPTER I Nora opened her eyes to an unaccustomed consciousness of well-being. She was dimly aware that it had its origin in something deeper than mere physical comfort; but for the moment, in that state between sleeping and wakening, which still held her, it was enough to find that body and mind seemed rested. Youth was reasserting itself. And it was only a short time ago that she had felt that never,... more...

CHAPTER I. MYSTERY OF MARKET SPEECH AND PRAYER-MEETING. "Good mornin', Bob; how's butter dis mornin'?" "Fresh; just as fresh, as fresh can be." "Oh, glory!" said the questioner, whom we shall call Thomas Anderson, although he was known among his acquaintances as Marster Anderson's Tom. His informant regarding the condition of the market was Robert Johnson,... more...

The simplest formula for the new conception of morality, which is beginning to be opposed to moral dogma still esteemed by all society, but especially by women, might be summed up in these words: Love is moral even without legal marriage, but marriage is immoral without love. The customary objection to this tenet is that those who propose it forget all other ethical duties and legitimate feelings in... more...

From "Torrents of Spring." Translated by Constance Garnett. In one of the outlying streets of Moscow, in a gray house with white columns and a balcony, warped all askew, there was once living a lady, a widow, surrounded by a numerous household of serfs. Her sons were in the government service at Petersburg; her daughters were married; she went out very little, and in solitude lived through the... more...

We must ask pardon of the public for offering it this book, and give it due warning of what it will find therein. The public loves fictitious novels! this is a true novel. It loves books which make a pretence of introducing their readers to fashionable society: this book deals with the life of the street. It loves little indecent books, memoirs of courtesans, alcove confessions, erotic obscenity, the... more...

Somebody had to get the human angle on this trip ... but what was humane about sending me? My agent was the one who got me the job of going along to write up the first trip to Mars. He was always getting me things like that—appearances on TV shows, or mentions in writers' magazines. If he didn't sell much of my stuff, at least he sold me. "It'll be the biggest break a writer ever... more...

The sun had dropped behind the Grimaldi plateau, although for a day twilight would linger over the Oceanus Procellarum. The sky was a hazy blue, and out over the deeper tinted waves the full Earth swung. All the long half-month it had hung there above the horizon, its light dimmed by the sunshine, growing from a thin crescent to its full disk three times as broad as that of the sun at setting. Now in... more...

THE PIANOFORTE There must be practically on the part of every one who attends a pianoforte recital some degree of curiosity regarding the instrument itself. Therefore, it seems to me pertinent to institute at the very outset an inquiry into what the pianoforte is and how it became what it is—the most practical, most expressive and most universal of musical instruments, the instrument of the... more...

HIS OWN PEOPLE "You never met Selwyn, did you?" "No, sir." "Never heard anything definite about his trouble?" insisted Gerard. "Oh, yes, sir!" replied young Erroll, "I've heard a good deal about it. Everybody has, you know." "Well, I don't know," retorted Austin Gerard irritably, "what 'everybody' has heard, but I suppose it's... more...