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Guess the opening lines...

486 replies

kinkytoes · 14/05/2026 15:02

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 😊

Guess the opening lines...
OP posts:
clary · 15/05/2026 23:34

Also (as someone has already said The Great Gatsby and P&P, two of my faves, here's another:

The snow in the mountains was melting and Bunny had been dead for several weeks before we came to understand the gravity of our situation.
(not very challenging perhaps)

Another fave (rather harder?)
And by the way,” said Mr. Hankin, arresting Miss Rossiter as she rose to go, “there is a new copy-writer coming in today.”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Hankin?”
“His name is Bredon. I can't tell you much about him; Mr. Pym engaged him himself; but you will see that he is looked after.”

clary · 15/05/2026 23:33

I don’t think anyone has said this:
Mr Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable.

It’s Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde which for some impenetrable reason is a GCSE set text (DD studied it in her final year of her Eng lit degree).

I’ll offer
There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, but he wasn’t a bad sort

pollyhemlock · 15/05/2026 23:32

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 15/05/2026 22:28

And finally for today, rather a tough one perhaps:

The men at work at the corner of the street had made a kind of camp for themselves, where, marked out by tripods hung with red hurricane-lamps, an abyss in the road led down to a network of subterranean drain-pipes. Gathered round the bucket of coke that burned in front of the shelter, several figures were swinging arms against bodies and rubbing hands together with large, pantomimic gestures: like comedians giving formal expression to the concept of extreme cold. One of them, a spare fellow in blue overalls, taller than the rest, with a jocular demeanour and long, pointed nose like that of a Shakespearian clown, suddenly stepped forward, and, as if performing a rite, cast some substance — apparently the remains of two kippers, loosely wrapped in newspaper — on the bright coals of the fire, causing flames to leap fiercely upward, smoke curling about in eddies of the north-east wind. As the dark fumes floated above the houses, snow began to fall gently from a dull sky, each flake giving a small hiss as it reached the bucket. The flames died down again; and the men, as if required observances were for the moment at an end, all turned away from the fire, lowering themselves laboriously into the pit, or withdrawing to the shadows of their tarpaulin shelter. The grey, undecided flakes continued to come down, though not heavily, while a harsh odour, bitter and gaseous, penetrated the air. The day was drawing in.

This is the opening of A Question of Upbringing, the first in Anthony Powell’s Dance to the Music of Time sequence.

PassengerDerby · 15/05/2026 23:16

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 15/05/2026 22:28

And finally for today, rather a tough one perhaps:

The men at work at the corner of the street had made a kind of camp for themselves, where, marked out by tripods hung with red hurricane-lamps, an abyss in the road led down to a network of subterranean drain-pipes. Gathered round the bucket of coke that burned in front of the shelter, several figures were swinging arms against bodies and rubbing hands together with large, pantomimic gestures: like comedians giving formal expression to the concept of extreme cold. One of them, a spare fellow in blue overalls, taller than the rest, with a jocular demeanour and long, pointed nose like that of a Shakespearian clown, suddenly stepped forward, and, as if performing a rite, cast some substance — apparently the remains of two kippers, loosely wrapped in newspaper — on the bright coals of the fire, causing flames to leap fiercely upward, smoke curling about in eddies of the north-east wind. As the dark fumes floated above the houses, snow began to fall gently from a dull sky, each flake giving a small hiss as it reached the bucket. The flames died down again; and the men, as if required observances were for the moment at an end, all turned away from the fire, lowering themselves laboriously into the pit, or withdrawing to the shadows of their tarpaulin shelter. The grey, undecided flakes continued to come down, though not heavily, while a harsh odour, bitter and gaseous, penetrated the air. The day was drawing in.

Just a guess - The Ragged-trousered Philanthopists? Have not read the book and I don't recognise the excerpt but it feels like it possibly could fit.
*Edited to correct title

ShanghaiDiva · 15/05/2026 22:59

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:58

Yes!

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Was also one of my a level set texts in the 1980s.

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:59

ShanghaiDiva · 15/05/2026 22:56

Yes! My favourite opening line.

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It’s a brilliant opening line - and reminds me of Spinal Tap and their exploding drummer.

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:58

ShanghaiDiva · 15/05/2026 22:54

Hard times?

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Yes!

ShanghaiDiva · 15/05/2026 22:56

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:55

The Crow Road.

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Yes! My favourite opening line.

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:55

ShanghaiDiva · 15/05/2026 22:51

It was the day my grandmother exploded.

The Crow Road.

ShanghaiDiva · 15/05/2026 22:54

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:53

One from my A levels (a long time ago):

Now, what I want is, Facts. Teach these boys and girls nothing but Facts. Facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else, and root out everything else. You can only form the minds of reasoning animals upon Facts: nothing else will ever be of any service to them. This is the principle on which I bring up my own children, and this is the principle on which I bring up these children. Stick to Facts, sir!

Hard times?

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:53

One from my A levels (a long time ago):

Now, what I want is, Facts. Teach these boys and girls nothing but Facts. Facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else, and root out everything else. You can only form the minds of reasoning animals upon Facts: nothing else will ever be of any service to them. This is the principle on which I bring up my own children, and this is the principle on which I bring up these children. Stick to Facts, sir!

ShanghaiDiva · 15/05/2026 22:51

It was the day my grandmother exploded.

icannotlivelaughloveintheseconditions · 15/05/2026 22:39

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:37

The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night Time?.

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Yes!!

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 15/05/2026 22:37

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:33

That helps! Decline and Fall.

(I liked Scoop the best).

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Yes! I love Scoop. 'Feather-footed through the plashy fen passes the questing vole.' Grin

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:37

icannotlivelaughloveintheseconditions · 15/05/2026 22:35

It was 7 minutes after midnight . The dog was lying on the grass in the middle of the lawn in front of Mrs Shears house.

The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night Time?.

icannotlivelaughloveintheseconditions · 15/05/2026 22:35

HelenaWilson · 15/05/2026 22:32

The pretty Swiss town of Mayenfeld, lies at the foot of a mountain range whose grim rugged peaks tower high above the valley below.

Heidi?

Correct!

icannotlivelaughloveintheseconditions · 15/05/2026 22:35

It was 7 minutes after midnight . The dog was lying on the grass in the middle of the lawn in front of Mrs Shears house.

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:33

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 15/05/2026 22:22

His first novel, if that helps. Far better than his second, and much more enjoyable than the rather mawkish (to my taste) Brideshead Revisited.

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That helps! Decline and Fall.

(I liked Scoop the best).

HelenaWilson · 15/05/2026 22:32

The pretty Swiss town of Mayenfeld, lies at the foot of a mountain range whose grim rugged peaks tower high above the valley below.

Heidi?

icannotlivelaughloveintheseconditions · 15/05/2026 22:31

The pretty Swiss town of Mayenfeld, lies at the foot of a mountain range whose grim rugged peaks tower high above the valley below.

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 15/05/2026 22:28

And finally for today, rather a tough one perhaps:

The men at work at the corner of the street had made a kind of camp for themselves, where, marked out by tripods hung with red hurricane-lamps, an abyss in the road led down to a network of subterranean drain-pipes. Gathered round the bucket of coke that burned in front of the shelter, several figures were swinging arms against bodies and rubbing hands together with large, pantomimic gestures: like comedians giving formal expression to the concept of extreme cold. One of them, a spare fellow in blue overalls, taller than the rest, with a jocular demeanour and long, pointed nose like that of a Shakespearian clown, suddenly stepped forward, and, as if performing a rite, cast some substance — apparently the remains of two kippers, loosely wrapped in newspaper — on the bright coals of the fire, causing flames to leap fiercely upward, smoke curling about in eddies of the north-east wind. As the dark fumes floated above the houses, snow began to fall gently from a dull sky, each flake giving a small hiss as it reached the bucket. The flames died down again; and the men, as if required observances were for the moment at an end, all turned away from the fire, lowering themselves laboriously into the pit, or withdrawing to the shadows of their tarpaulin shelter. The grey, undecided flakes continued to come down, though not heavily, while a harsh odour, bitter and gaseous, penetrated the air. The day was drawing in.

HelenaWilson · 15/05/2026 22:28

Yes, To Serve Them All My Days. Bamfylde is the clue. If I'd continued to the end of he sentence it would have given the character's name but I thought that was too much of a giveaway

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 15/05/2026 22:22

SabrinaThwaite · 15/05/2026 22:18

I’m stumped (and I’m not going to cheat).

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His first novel, if that helps. Far better than his second, and much more enjoyable than the rather mawkish (to my taste) Brideshead Revisited.

PassengerDerby · 15/05/2026 22:20

DreamingOfGeneHunt · 15/05/2026 21:44

@PassengerDerby it's such a good book!

The best! I remember reading it as a teen and I'd never cried with laughter so much at a book. Only PGW has reduced me to tears in that way since.

PassengerDerby · 15/05/2026 22:18

Need to confirm I did NOT google the quotation, I googled the title of the book that was in my head. Before I get kicked off the thread for cheating 😅

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