Tuesday, February 3, 2015
To begin at the beginning...
While browsing for post through The Penslayer's blog archives, I stumbled upon this. While, admittedly, an old posting, I loved the idea. And since it was a quick and fun thing to do, I decided to give it a go! (Although if I have my way there will be a real review up soon on C.S. Lewis' "Till We Have Faces.")
Now on to the fun part: the beginnings of some of my favorite stories:
Till We Have Faces C.S. Lewis: I am old now and have not much to fear from the anger of the gods.
The Fellowship of the Ring J.R.R. Tolkien: When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk excitement in Hobbiton.
The Hobbit J.R.R. Tolkien: In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.
Stepping Heavenward Mrs. E. Prentiss: How dreadfully old I am getting! Sixteen! Well, I don't see as I can help it.
To Kill a Mockingbird Harper Lee: When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.
Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen: It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of good fortune must be in want of a wife.
Rose in Bloom Louisa May Alcott: Three young men stood together on a wharf one bright October day awaiting the arrival of an ocean steamer with an impatience which found vent lively skirmish with a small lad, who pervaded the premises like a will-o'-the-wisp and afforded much amusement to the other groups assembled there.
Rebecca Dauphne du Maurier: Last night I dreamt I went to Manderlay again...
The Secret Life of Bees Sue Monk Kidd: At nI would lie in bed and watch the show, how bees squeezed through the cracks of my bedroom wall and flew circles around the room, making that propeller sound, a high- pitched zzzzz that hummed along my skin.
Plenilune Jennifer Freitag: Margaret Coventry stood on the platform at Leeds with a rain-speckled umbrella folded in one hand and her carpetbag in the other.
Emma Jane Austen: Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.
Voice in the Wind Francine Rivers: The city was silently bloating in the hot sun, rotting like the thousands of bodies that lay where they had fallen in street battles.
And finally, because I am really a three year old on the inside, good ol' Winnie the Pooh...
The Complete Tales of Winnie-the-Pooh A.A. Milne: Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin.