Page 2 | Guess the opening lines...

kinkytoes · 2026-05-14T14:02:19+00:00

Hi all, hope it's ok to start this here. Thought it might be fun and stretch the old grey matter a bit. I'll attach a shot of some opening lines and whoever guesses correctly post their own? We could all just post pics but then we might lose track. I don't mind. Let me know what you think (of the idea, and the opening lines here - hopefully started off with an easyish one but let me know if any clues are needed!) If it's being done elsewhere please someone direct me 😊

DeanElderberry · 06/07/2026 18:04

Gottit

The Silent Pool Patricia Wentworth

DeanElderberry · 06/07/2026 17:35

Miss Silver?

Grumpyoldpersonwithcats · 06/07/2026 17:34

HelenaWilson · 06/07/2026 17:19

Here's one for anyone still following the thread. Character name will suffice, I don't expect anyone to know the the specific book.

It was [Redacted]'s practice to open her letters at the breakfast table. True to the maxims instilled into her when still extremely young, she was in the habit of giving duty the first place in her life. A call for her personal or professional assistance, whether by post or telephone, would therefore naturally precede any dalliance with the morning papers, of which she took two—one of that aloof and lofty character which made even the most world-shaking events seem to be taking place at an immense distance and to have very little bearing upon daily life; the other frankly given over to headlines, a lively presentment of politics, and such immediate and pressing matters as who had been married, murdered, or divorced.

A complete guess (never read them). Enola Holmes?

HelenaWilson · 06/07/2026 17:19

Here's one for anyone still following the thread. Character name will suffice, I don't expect anyone to know the the specific book.

It was [Redacted]'s practice to open her letters at the breakfast table. True to the maxims instilled into her when still extremely young, she was in the habit of giving duty the first place in her life. A call for her personal or professional assistance, whether by post or telephone, would therefore naturally precede any dalliance with the morning papers, of which she took two—one of that aloof and lofty character which made even the most world-shaking events seem to be taking place at an immense distance and to have very little bearing upon daily life; the other frankly given over to headlines, a lively presentment of politics, and such immediate and pressing matters as who had been married, murdered, or divorced.

HelenaWilson · 06/07/2026 00:36

I've just thought of one to post, but will have to read back through the thread to check I didn't post it before!

tobee · 06/07/2026 00:30

Just been reading through this thread and, of course, everything has been answered now and it’s gone quiet.

All I wanted to add was that the bit where Eustace is turned into a dragon in Dawn Treader was so upsetting, both at the time and now.

Secondly, I’ve always loved The 39 Steps as my old dad read it to my sister and i on holiday in France one year( he read a novel to us most years), doing all the voices brilliantly. I found it utterly exciting. Now my dear old dad has dementia so it’s even more poignant for me.

Pigtailsandall · 21/05/2026 20:28

FaintlyMacabre · 21/05/2026 20:19

I might be totally and utterly wrong here but is it The Handmaid’s Tale?

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Yes!

FaintlyMacabre · 21/05/2026 20:19

Pigtailsandall · 21/05/2026 19:19

I love this game but I'm terrible at remembering opening lines. I've only gotten the Jame Austen ones and 100 Years of Solitude so far.

This is mine, a long-time favourite

I might be totally and utterly wrong here but is it The Handmaid’s Tale?

Pigtailsandall · 21/05/2026 19:19

I love this game but I'm terrible at remembering opening lines. I've only gotten the Jame Austen ones and 100 Years of Solitude so far.

This is mine, a long-time favourite

pollyhemlock · 20/05/2026 19:27

Grumpyoldpersonwithcats · 20/05/2026 09:34

Don't think anyone has identified my short story opening yet?
It was a chill, rain-washed afternoon of a late August day, that indefinite season when partridges are still in security or cold storage, and there is nothing to hunt, unless one is bounded on the North by the Bristol Channel, in which case one may lawfully gallop after fat red stags.
I'll also offer this.
Brother Francis Gerard of Utah might never have discovered the blessed documents, had it not been for the pilgrim with girded loins who appeared during that young novice's Lenten fast in the desert.

Brother Francis Gerard is from A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M Miller. Classic sci-fi.

FaintlyMacabre · 20/05/2026 15:14

kinkytoes · 20/05/2026 12:26

This thread tells me I need to read more books! 🙈

Ditto!
Most of the ones I’ve got are children’s books, or opening lines that are well known even for those of us who haven’t read them.

Original poster

kinkytoes · 20/05/2026 12:26

This thread tells me I need to read more books! 🙈

OP posts:

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 20/05/2026 11:41

One of my favourites! Should have spotted it sooner.

Grumpyoldpersonwithcats · 20/05/2026 11:35

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 20/05/2026 11:25

I don't know either of those, but the fact that the first one is a short story opening makes me wonder about Saki. It doesn't sound like Graham Greene and I don't think it's Evelyn Waugh.

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Full marks - Tobermory. 😸

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 20/05/2026 11:25

Grumpyoldpersonwithcats · 20/05/2026 09:34

Don't think anyone has identified my short story opening yet?
It was a chill, rain-washed afternoon of a late August day, that indefinite season when partridges are still in security or cold storage, and there is nothing to hunt, unless one is bounded on the North by the Bristol Channel, in which case one may lawfully gallop after fat red stags.
I'll also offer this.
Brother Francis Gerard of Utah might never have discovered the blessed documents, had it not been for the pilgrim with girded loins who appeared during that young novice's Lenten fast in the desert.

I don't know either of those, but the fact that the first one is a short story opening makes me wonder about Saki. It doesn't sound like Graham Greene and I don't think it's Evelyn Waugh.

SabrinaThwaite · 20/05/2026 10:59

FaintlyMacabre · 20/05/2026 10:11

One Hundred Years Of Solitude.

Here’s my contribution:

’”You too will marry a boy I choose” said Mrs Rupa Mehta firmly to her younger daughter.’

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One I know at last!

A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth.

FlorbelaEspanca · 20/05/2026 10:13

It is time that I told this story. I do not know if I shall ever bring myself to publish it; not because of hurting the people involved - those it could have hurt most are dead; but because it is a sort of confession, and I dislike confessional writing.

*

In those days people still went on holiday by train and bus. Spain was where the onions came from. Abroad was for the privileged few. People went to places like Scarborough and Bridlington, Great Yarmouth and Southend, Bournemouth and Llandudno, Morecambe and Blackpool. They still do, but then they went in their millions, and without the freedom of the motor car they needed lodgings.

FaintlyMacabre · 20/05/2026 10:11

FruAashild · 20/05/2026 09:52

An iconic one from one of my favourites:

Many years later, in front of the firing squad, colonel Aureliano Buendía would remember that distant afternoon his father took him to see ice.

One Hundred Years Of Solitude.

Here’s my contribution:

’”You too will marry a boy I choose” said Mrs Rupa Mehta firmly to her younger daughter.’

pollyhemlock · 20/05/2026 10:01

38thparallel · 20/05/2026 08:58

@pollyhemlock yes! Have you ever done the Nemo’s Almanac quiz? I used to do it every year until Google started. Then, as so much could be found online, the quotes became harder and more obscure so I gave up.
You would be brilliant at it.

I was given it for Christmas a few years ago and it was so difficult I gave up!

FruAashild · 20/05/2026 09:52

An iconic one from one of my favourites:

Many years later, in front of the firing squad, colonel Aureliano Buendía would remember that distant afternoon his father took him to see ice.

Grumpyoldpersonwithcats · 20/05/2026 09:34

Don't think anyone has identified my short story opening yet?
It was a chill, rain-washed afternoon of a late August day, that indefinite season when partridges are still in security or cold storage, and there is nothing to hunt, unless one is bounded on the North by the Bristol Channel, in which case one may lawfully gallop after fat red stags.
I'll also offer this.
Brother Francis Gerard of Utah might never have discovered the blessed documents, had it not been for the pilgrim with girded loins who appeared during that young novice's Lenten fast in the desert.

38thparallel · 20/05/2026 08:58

@pollyhemlock yes! Have you ever done the Nemo’s Almanac quiz? I used to do it every year until Google started. Then, as so much could be found online, the quotes became harder and more obscure so I gave up.
You would be brilliant at it.

pollyhemlock · 20/05/2026 08:17

38thparallel · 20/05/2026 07:40

A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead. I say ‘one chooses’ with the inaccurate pride of a professional writer who—when he has been seriously noted at all—has been praised for his technical ability, but do I in fact of my own will choose that black wet January night on the Common, in 1946, the sight of slanting across the wide river of rain, or did these images choose me?

I think this is Graham Greene. The End of the Affair?

38thparallel · 20/05/2026 07:40

A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead. I say ‘one chooses’ with the inaccurate pride of a professional writer who—when he has been seriously noted at all—has been praised for his technical ability, but do I in fact of my own will choose that black wet January night on the Common, in 1946, the sight of slanting across the wide river of rain, or did these images choose me?

SydneyCarton · 20/05/2026 07:35

FlorbelaEspanca · 19/05/2026 20:13

We stand, the three of us, me, Sylvie and Rube, pressed up against the saloon door, brown ales clutched in our hands.

and what about:

On an autumn afternoon of 1919 a hatless man with a slight limp might have been observed ascending the gentle, broad acclivity of [giveaway placename] which lead from King's Cross Road up to [another] in the great metropolitan industrial district of Clerkenwell.

The first one is Up The Junction by Nell Dunn