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Category： Author：Edward George Bulwer-Lytton
The Last Days of Pompeii is a novel written by the baron Edward Bulwer-Lytton in 1834. It culminates in the cataclysmic destruction of the city of Pompeii by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in AD 79. The novel uses its characters to contrast the decadent culture of 1st-century Rome with both older cultures and coming trends. The protag...
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Category： Author：Joseph A. Altsheler
The boy in the third wagon was suffering from exhaustion. The days and days of walking over the rolling prairie, under a brassy sun, the hard food of the train, and the short hours of rest, had put too severe a trial upon his delicate frame. Now, as he lay against the sacks and boxes that had been drawn up to form a sort of couch...
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Category： Author：novel
That day is chilled in my memory when I first set out for Cheltenham. It was in December 1840. The snow had been frozen on the ground a fortnight. There were three of us, Mrs. Holyoake, Madeline (our first child), and myself. I had been residing in Worcester, which was the first station to which I had been appointed as a Social M...
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Category： Author：novel
Pte. Clarke of the Orderly Room staff told me how my coming as Chaplain to the 43rd in 1917 was announced to the men attached to Battalion Headquarters. They were "killing time" off duty in one of the cellars under the brick-piles on the flats facing Avion. I give it in his own words as well as memory recalls them.
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Category： Author：novel
The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitely settled—but the very definitiveness with whic...
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Category： Author：novel
You are having the same recurring dream, the dream that has haunted the whole world since that day in 1945. The dream of the sudden flash in the night, the rising mushroom cloud and then annihilation. You are living the nightmare again but this time it's true, you know it's true. You can't be dreaming. The bombs are actually fall...
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Category： Author：novel
Malloy was in his month for lying on his stomach to avoid bed sores. He was walking from Peoria, Illinois, to Detroit, Michigan, currently and he had just reached Chicago. It was fine to see State Street again, and the jewelry stores stuck in the alcoves of churches with the handsomely barred windows.
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Category： Author：novel
For a long time, Henry Bemis had had an ambition. To read a book. Not just the title or the preface, or a page somewhere in the middle. He wanted to read the whole thing, all the way through from beginning to end. A simple ambition perhaps, but in the cluttered life of Henry Bemis, an impossibility.
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Category： Author：novel
Illustration can never bring myself to believe it, John,\" said Mary Walker, the pretty daughter of Mr. George Walker, attorney of Silverbridge. Walker and Winthrop was the name of the firm, and they were respectable people, who did all the solicitors\' business that had to be done in that part of Barsetshire on behalf of the Crown, w...
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Category： Author：novel
“There; that\'s it. That\'s where they buried Frenchman,” said Andrew—known as River Andrew. For there was another Andrew who earned his living on the sea. River Andrew had conducted the two gentlemen from “The Black Sailor” to the churchyard by their own request.
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