R.J. Anderson (rj_anderson) wrote,
R.J. Anderson

  • Mood:

Five Favorite Books Meme

Gacked from musigneus on friendsfriends:

Pick passages from five of your favorite books. The first book's passage should come from the fifth page, the second from the tenth, the third from the fifteenth, the fourth from the twentieth, and the fifth from the twenty-fifth. Do not give the titles and see if your flist guesses the books.

"What about the new recruit?" I said.

"He came through right before I did. I found him wandering about in the Warwick Road, no idea of where to go. If I hadn't found him he'd have fallen in a bomb crater."

Which might not have been a bad thing, considering.

A series of emotions crossed his face, rich reward for my victory. Simple surprise was followed by a rueful admission of defeat, and then, as he reviewed the entire discussion, he surprised me. His face relaxed, his thin lips twitched, his grey eyes crinkled into unexpected lines, and at last he threw his head back and gave a great shout of delighted laughter.

Then, like a noise from a different world, came the opening of the door and the sound of boots on the doormat, and I saw, silhouetted against the greyness of the night in the open doorway, a figure which I recognized... The speaking which was not a voice came again out of the rod of light: and [my friend], instead of moving, stood still and answered it. Both speeches were in a strange polysyllabic language which I had not heard before. I make no attempt to excuse the feelings which awoke in me when I heard the unhuman sound addressing my friend and my friend answering it in the same language. They are, in fact, inexcusable; but if you think they are improbable at such a juncture, I must tell you plainly that you have read neither history nor your own heart to much effect. They were feelings of resentment, horror, and jealousy. It was in my mind to shout out, 'Leave your familiar alone, you damned magician, and attend to Me.'

It was coming back to him, or some of it was. This was the Principal's house in the Bridge Institute of General Research, that remarkable and ancient institution which, from being a provincial curiosity, part charity and part museum, for a hundred and fifty years, had blossomed forth in the early part of the century into one of the most valuable centres in the country. The recollection came as Amanda's name had come; not as a raising of the curtain of darkness which hung between the front and the back of his mind, but as a sudden rent in it which flashed a whole scene from the brightness within, only to close again a moment later as the fold resettled. It was all very confusing and alarming.

On his way, however, he came to another stair, and up that he went, of course, watching still at every turn how the tower must lie. At the top of this stair was yet another--they were the stairs up which the princess ran when first, without knowing it, she was on her way to find her great-great-grandmother. At the top of the second stair he could go no farther, and must therefore set out again to find the tower, which, as it rose far above the rest of the house, must have the last of its stairs inside itself.

Some of these are almost pathetically obvious, but perhaps one or two will take my f-list a while to figure out...
Tags: books, memes
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded