American Novels

"Sir Thomas, arrest this—No, hold!" His face lighted, and he confronted the ragged candidate with this question— "Where lieth the Great Seal? Answer me this truly, and the riddle is unriddled; for only he that was Prince of Wales can so answer! On so trivial a thing hang a throne and a dynasty!"

"What dost thou know of suffering and oppression? I and my people know, but not thou."

"At last the final act was at hand. The Archbishop of Canterbury lifted up the crown of England from its cushion and held it out over the trembling mock-King's head. In the same instant a rainbow-radiance flashed along the spacious transept; for with one impulse every individual in the great concourse of nobles lifted a coronet and poised it over his or her head—and paused in that attitude. A deep hush pervaded the Abbey. At this impressive moment, a startling apparition intruded upon the scene—an apparition observed by none in the absorbed multitude, until it suddenly appeared, moving up the great central aisle. It was a boy, bareheaded, ill shod, and clothed in coarse plebeian garments that were falling to rags. He raised his hand with a solemnity which ill comported with his soiled and sorry aspect, and delivered this note of warning— "I forbid you to set the crown of England upon that forfeited head. I am the King!""

"None believe in me—neither wilt thou. But no matter—within the compass of a month thou shalt be free; and more, the laws that have dishonoured thee, and shamed the English name, shall be swept from the statute books. The world is made wrong; kings should go to school to their own laws, at times, and so learn mercy."

"Let the child go," said he; "ye heartless dogs, do ye not see how young and frail he is? Let him go—I will take his lashes."

"Ingenious in conception, pure and humane in purpose, artistic in method, and, with barely a flaw, refined in execution."

"The mock King's cheeks were flushed with excitement, his eyes were flashing, his senses swam in a delirium of pleasure. At this point, just as he was raising his hand to fling another rich largess, he caught sight of a pale, astounded face, which was strained forward out of the second rank of the crowd, its intense eyes riveted upon him. A sickening consternation struck through him; he recognised his mother! and up flew his hand, palm outward, before his eyes—that old involuntary gesture, born of a forgotten episode, and perpetuated by habit. In an instant more she had torn her way out of the press, and past the guards, and was at his side. She embraced his leg, she covered it with kisses, she cried, "O my child, my darling!" lifting toward him a face that was transfigured with joy and love. The same instant an officer of the King's Guard snatched her away with a curse, and sent her reeling back whence she came with a vigorous impulse from his strong arm. The words "I do not know you, woman!" were falling from Tom Canty's lips when this piteous thing occurred; but it smote him to the heart to see her treated so; and as she turned for a last glimpse of him, whilst the crowd was swallowing her from his sight, she seemed so wounded, so broken-hearted, that a shame fell upon him which consumed his pride to ashes, and withered his stolen royalty. His grandeurs were stricken valueless: they seemed to fall away from him like rotten rags."

"The distant dogs howled, the melancholy kine complained, and the winds went on raging, whilst furious sheets of rain drove along the roof; but the Majesty of England slept on, undisturbed, and the calf did the same, it being a simple creature, and not easily troubled by storms or embarrassed by sleeping with a king."

"At long intervals he drew his thumb along the edge of his knife, and nodded his head with satisfaction. "It grows sharper," he said; "yes, it grows sharper. [...] It was his father that did it all. I am but an archangel; but for him I should be pope!""

"I beseech your good lordship that order be taken to change this law—oh, let no more poor creatures be visited with its tortures."

""Mates, he is my son, a dreamer, a fool, and stark mad—mind him not—he thinketh he is the King." "I am the King," said Edward, turning toward him, "as thou shalt know to thy cost, in good time. Thou hast confessed a murder—thou shalt swing for it." "Thou'lt betray me?—thou? An' I get my hands upon thee—" "Tut-tut!" said the burley Ruffler, interposing in time to save the King, and emphasising this service by knocking Hobbs down with his fist, "hast respect for neither Kings nor Rufflers? An' thou insult my presence so again, I'll hang thee up myself." Then he said to his Majesty, "Thou must make no threats against thy mates, lad; and thou must guard thy tongue from saying evil of them elsewhere. Be King, if it please thy mad humour, but be not harmful in it. Sink the title thou hast uttered—'tis treason; we be bad men in some few trifling ways, but none among us is so base as to be traitor to his King; we be loving and loyal hearts, in that regard. Note if I speak truth. Now—all together: 'Long live Edward, King of England!'" "LONG LIVE EDWARD, KING OF ENGLAND!" The response came with such a thundergust from the motley crew that the crazy building vibrated to the sound. The little King's face lighted with pleasure for an instant, and he slightly inclined his head, and said with grave simplicity— "I thank you, my good people." This unexpected result threw the company into convulsions of merriment."

"Unhand me, thou foolish creature; it was not I that bereaved thee of thy paltry goods."

"Offend me not with thy sordid matters. I tell thee again I am the King's son." A sounding blow upon the Prince's shoulder from Canty's broad palm sent him staggering into goodwife Canty's arms, who clasped him to her breast, and sheltered him from a pelting rain of cuffs and slaps by interposing her own person. The frightened girls retreated to their corner; but the grandmother stepped eagerly forward to assist her son. The Prince sprang away from Mrs. Canty, exclaiming— "Thou shalt not suffer for me, madam. Let these swine do their will upon me alone." This speech infuriated the swine to such a degree that they set about their work without waste of time. Between them they belaboured the boy right soundly, and then gave the girls and their mother a beating for showing sympathy for the victim. "Now," said Canty, "to bed, all of ye. The entertainment has tired me."

"The little King dragged himself to the bed and lay down upon it, almost exhausted with hunger and fatigue... He murmured drowsily— "Prithee call me when the table is spread," and sank into a deep sleep immediately. A smile twinkled in Hendon's eye, and he said to himself— "By the mass, the little beggar takes to one's quarters and usurps one's bed with as natural and easy a grace as if he owned them...""

"Rise, Sir Miles Hendon, Knight," said the King, gravely—giving the accolade with Hendon's sword—"rise, and seat thyself. Thy petition is granted. Whilst England remains, and the crown continues, the privilege shall not lapse."

"Miles Hendon forgot all decorum in his delight; and surprised the King and wounded his dignity, by throwing his arms around him and hugging him. [...] The justice wrote a while longer, then read the King a wise and kindly lecture, and sentenced him to a short imprisonment in the common jail, to be followed by a public flogging. The astounded King opened his mouth, and was probably going to order the good judge to be beheaded on the spot; but he caught a warning sign from Hendon, and succeeded in closing his mouth again before he lost anything out of it."

"All that is really vital in the wild humor of Mark Twain is here, but it is strengthened and refined."

"If that I could but clothe me in raiment like to thine, and strip my feet, and revel in the mud once, just once, with none to rebuke me or forbid, meseemeth I could forego the crown!"

"A few minutes later the little Prince of Wales was garlanded with Tom's fluttering odds and ends, and the little Prince of Pauperdom was tricked out in the gaudy plumage of royalty. The two went and stood side by side before a great mirror, and lo, a miracle: there did not seem to have been any change made!"

"I pray thee of thy grace believe me, I did but speak the truth, most dread lord; for I am the meanest among thy subjects, being a pauper born, and 'tis by a sore mischance and accident I am here, albeit I was therein nothing blameful. I am but young to die, and thou canst save me with one little word. Oh speak it, sir!"

"My father!" cried Tom, off his guard for the moment. "I trow he cannot speak his own so that any but the swine that kennel in the styes may tell his meaning; and as for learning of any sort soever—" He looked up and encountered a solemn warning in my Lord St. John's eyes. He stopped, blushed, then continued low and sadly: "Ah, my malady persecuteth me again, and my mind wandereth. I meant the King's grace no irreverence."

"The games and the books should be considered to be separate continuities, even if they do share many familiar elements. So yes, the book is canon, just as the games are. That doesn't mean that they are intended to fit together like two puzzle pieces. [...] The book is a re-imagining of the Five Nights at Freddy's story, and if you go into it with that mindset, I think you will really enjoy it but is sadly not canon so the book is in a au."

"Fans of S. don't just ask each other if they've read the book — they ask each other how they read it. Written by Doug Dorst (with inspiration from concept creator and "novelrunner" J.J. Abrams), the book is a singular experience: Within a worn library copy of fictional author V. M. Straka's nineteenth and final novel, Ship of Theseus, are two readers who've found each other in the margins. There are issues of identity on all fronts — S, the protagonist in Ship of Theseus, has amnesia, and doesn't know who he is; V.M. Straka, his author, is said not to exist and may be a pseudonym for a number of candidates; Eric, a grad student studying Ship of Theseus, is hoping to solve that question of authorship for his dissertation, but he, too, doesn't officially exist, as his university has expunged him. Along comes an undergrad named Jen who picks up Eric's copy of the book, reads his notes, and starts writing notes to him in the margins as she gets pulled into Straka's work and the mysteries surrounding both him and Eric. It's a labyrinth of story-within-story, especially when you consider the footnotes are ciphers."

"Of course there is a monkey. There is always a monkey."

"If found, please return to workroom B19, Main Library, Pollard State University Hey — I found your stuff while I was shelving. (Looks like you left in a hurry!) I read a few chapters & loved it. Felt bad about keeping the book from you though, since you obviously need it for your work. Have to get my own copy! — Jen"

"There are hard wars and easy wars. It's easy to conquer a country whose people hate their own government more than they hate the invaders. It's hard to fight a war when your army knows that back home, their families are rooting for the other side."

"Being young is an eighteen-year prison sentence for a crime your parents committed. But you do get time off for good behavior."

"In war planning, you must anticipate the actions of the enemy. Be careful lest your preventive measures teach the enemy which of his possible actions you most fear."

"If you tell the same lies long enough and loudly enough, even people who know better will despair and concede the point. We are tribal animals. We cannot long stand against the tribe."

"Heroic love is to do what is best for the loved one, disregarding desire, trust, and cost. Unfortunately, it is impossible to know what is best for anyone."

"War triggers human inventiveness at the most brilliant, because if you don't win your wars, your civilization disappears."

"When do you first set foot on the ladder to greatness? Or on the slippery slope of treason? Do you know it at the time? Or do you discover it only looking back?"

"While war is the ultimate expression of mistrust, it cannot be waged without absolute trust. A soldier trusts his comrades to stand beside him and his commander to lead him wisely, so that he will not be led to a meaningless death. And the commander trusts his subordinates and soldiers to act with wisdom and courage in order to compensate for his own ignorance, stupidity, incompetence, and fear, which all commanders possess in ample measure."

"Only a fool thinks the turns of history can be measured by any standard other than which wars were fought, and who won them. Survival of the fittest—that’s the measure of a civilization. And survival is determined on a battlefield. Where one man kills another, or dies, or runs away. The society whose citizens will stand and fight is the one with the best chance for history even to notice it."

"Treason only matters when it is committed by trusted men."

"Protect your own force—that was a prime concern. But if it were the only priority, or the highest priority, nations would keep their armies at home and never commit them to battle at all."

"I'll find a tutor — no, Laz, not a horizontal one. Don’t you ever think about anything else? (Come to think of it, dear, what else is worth thinking about? Money?)"

"It is hard to shake off any taboos a child is indoctrinated with in his earliest years. Even if he learns later that they are nonsense."

"He saw that he had committed the prime sin against survival: He had indulged in wishful thinking."

"I see no use in written marriage contracts; they can’t be enforced...whereas if the partners want to make it work, no written instrument is necessary."

"If heredity were not overwhelmingly more important than environment, you could teach calculus to a horse."

"A man who refuses to take his own death into account in making plans is a fool. A self-centered fool who does not love anyone."

"The best thing about the future was that it was unknown. Cassandra’s one good quality was that she was never believed."

"Climate is what you expect, weather is what you get."

"Sin lies only in hurting others unnecessarily. All other "sins" are invented nonsense."

"“I came, I saw, she conquered.” (The original Latin seems to have been garbled.)"

"Freedom begins when you tell Mrs. Grundy to go fly a kite."

"Natural laws have no pity."

"Political tags — such as royalist, communist, democrat, populist, fascist, conservative, and so forth — are never basic criteria. The human race divides politically into those who want people to be controlled and those who have no such desire. The former are idealists acting from highest motives for the greatest good of the greatest number. The latter are surly curmudgeons, suspicious and lacking in altruism. But they are more comfortable neighbors than the other sort."

"The historicity of Jesus is the slipperiest question in all history because for centuries the question couldn’t be raised. They would hang you for asking — or burn you at the stake."