Page 6 | 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 😊

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:30

TonTonMacoute · 14/05/2026 19:28

A classic
**
Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty that is thrown into relief by poor dress.

Another classic, but in translation

All happy families resemble one another, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

Middlemarch
The second one is Tolstoy, either War and Peace or Anna Karenina, neither of which I have read.

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:31

Grumpyoldpersonwithcats · 14/05/2026 19:24

Still waiting for a response to this one 😺

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.

That sounds like something I might have read, but I'm pretty sure I haven't. <helpful>

TonTonMacoute · 14/05/2026 19:31

Cyclistmumgrandma · 14/05/2026 17:13

Rebecca

The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.

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The Go Between.

One of my favourite books - and films.

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:32

"The education bestowed on Flora Poste by her parents had been expensive, athletic and prolonged; and when they died within a few weeks of one another during the annual epidemic of the influenza or Spanish Plague which occurred in her twentieth year, she was discovered to possess every art and grace save that of earning her own living."

DreamingOfGeneHunt · 14/05/2026 19:34

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:32

"The education bestowed on Flora Poste by her parents had been expensive, athletic and prolonged; and when they died within a few weeks of one another during the annual epidemic of the influenza or Spanish Plague which occurred in her twentieth year, she was discovered to possess every art and grace save that of earning her own living."

Cold Comfort Farm!

HelenaWilson · 14/05/2026 19:35

No idea if Biggles even had another name!

James Bigglesworth. Captain, in the story that extract is from.

LeoniedeWesseldorf · 14/05/2026 19:37

CrossPurposes · 14/05/2026 15:59

I knew Vanity Fair and here's mine:

A fug of tobacco smoke and damp clammy air hit her as she entered the café. She had
come in from the rain and drops of water still trembled like delicate dew on the fur coats
of some of the women inside. A regiment of white-aproned waiters rushed around at
tempo, serving the needs of the Münchner at leisure – coffee, cake and gossip.

Life After Life?

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:38

HelenaWilson · 14/05/2026 19:35

No idea if Biggles even had another name!

James Bigglesworth. Captain, in the story that extract is from.

Thank you, that's my trivia for the day!

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:38

DreamingOfGeneHunt · 14/05/2026 19:34

Cold Comfort Farm!

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Oh yes.

pollyhemlock · 14/05/2026 19:40

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:23

The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails, and was at rest. The flood had made, the wind was nearly calm, and being bound down the river, the only thing for it was to come to and wait for the turn of the tide.

Is it Frenchman’s Creek? Can’t find my copy.

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:44

No, a novella very much concerned with another river. The one in the quote is the Thames.

Here's yet another one:

Mrs Ferrars died on the night of the 16th-17th September - a Thursday. I was sent for at eight o’clock on the morning of Friday the 17th. There was nothing to be done. She had been dead some hours.

HelenaWilson · 14/05/2026 19:49

Mrs Ferrars died on the night of the 16th-17th September - a Thursday. I was sent for at eight o’clock on the morning of Friday the 17th. There was nothing to be done. She had been dead some hours.

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd

CrossPurposes · 14/05/2026 19:50

LeoniedeWesseldorf · 14/05/2026 19:37

Life After Life?

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Got it.

pollyhemlock · 14/05/2026 19:51

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:44

No, a novella very much concerned with another river. The one in the quote is the Thames.

Here's yet another one:

Mrs Ferrars died on the night of the 16th-17th September - a Thursday. I was sent for at eight o’clock on the morning of Friday the 17th. There was nothing to be done. She had been dead some hours.

Edited

Heart of Darkness?

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:52

pollyhemlock · 14/05/2026 19:51

Heart of Darkness?

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Yes, that's it!

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:53

HelenaWilson · 14/05/2026 19:49

Mrs Ferrars died on the night of the 16th-17th September - a Thursday. I was sent for at eight o’clock on the morning of Friday the 17th. There was nothing to be done. She had been dead some hours.

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd

Spot on.

backslashruby · 14/05/2026 19:54

1801 - I have just returned from a visit to my landlord - the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with.

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:56

backslashruby · 14/05/2026 19:54

1801 - I have just returned from a visit to my landlord - the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with.

Wuthering Heights?

backslashruby · 14/05/2026 19:57

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 19:56

Wuthering Heights?

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Correct. Gold star for Gasp0de.

Original poster

kinkytoes · 14/05/2026 19:58

backslashruby · 14/05/2026 19:54

1801 - I have just returned from a visit to my landlord - the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with.

Wuthering Heights ❤️

OP posts:

Cismyfatarse · 14/05/2026 20:05

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 17:02

Here's another one:

It was about eleven o’clock in the morning, mid October, with the sun not shining and a look of hard wet rain in the clearness of the foothills. I was wearing my powder-blue suit, with dark blue shirt, tie and display handkerchief, black brogues, black wool socks with dark blue clocks on them. I was neat, clean, shaved and sober, and I didn’t care who knew it. I was everything the well-dressed private detective ought to be. I was calling on four million dollars.

The Big Sleep.

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 20:08

Yup.

What about this one?

Marley was dead: to begin with.

EveryKneeShallBow · 14/05/2026 20:09

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 20:08

Yup.

What about this one?

Marley was dead: to begin with.

A Christmas Carol!

EveryKneeShallBow · 14/05/2026 20:14

A book I often see mentioned on here:

One of the very first bullets comes in through the open window above the toilet where Luca is standing. He doesn’t immediately understand that it’s a bullet at all, and it’s only luck that it doesn’t strike him between the eyes.

Gasp0deTheW0nderD0g · 14/05/2026 20:15

EveryKneeShallBow · 14/05/2026 20:09

A Christmas Carol!

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Yes!

^Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who,
for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage;
there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a
distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and
respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents;
there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs
changed naturally into pity and contempt as he turned over
the almost endless creations of the last century; and there,
if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history
with an interest which never failed.^