Best Book Opening Lines Novels & Stories

“Apparently.” Seraphina smiled. “That’s why I always found you familiar.” The Book’s Warning The black book suddenly closed. Then it opened again. This time, the pages were turning rapidly. Page 1. Page 2. Page 3. Thousands of pages. Millions. Then the book stopped. A single sentence appeared. “THE FIRST DAUGHTER HAS AWAKENED.” Another line appeared. “THE FIRST MOTHER HAS REMEMBERED.” Then: “THE FIRST FATHER IS RETURNING.”

I sat with my legs folded against the other. I opened page one then page two then page three but I couldn't remember any line from the last page, I couldn't even remember the name of the novel all I saw at every line was; ‘This deal needs a stable image, and a woman beside me gives them that. I’ve already introduced her to everyone that matters’ “Ahh,” I screamed, closed the book, and threw it onto the table.

“I think the book is starting. Not the speech material. Something new. Something that starts here.” He held my gaze for a long moment. The expression the open, warm, entirely real one. “Tell me the first line,” he said. I thought about it. The three pages. The morning light and the birdsong and the particular quality of waking up in a cottage in Hudson Valley the morning after a wedding you had chosen completely and finding that the world looked exactly like itself except better. “They say a wedding is supposed to be the happiest day of a woman’s life,” I said. “I’ve had two. The first one I walked into like a prisoner. The second one I walked into knowing exactly what I was choosing and why

I've never read any of them. It was only after he spoke that I realize he was behind me. I thought he was still sitting on the bed. I run my hands over the book, my eyes catching the titles, A fresh Start, For Mbatha and Rebecca, Agony in get voice, Felicia, The betrayal, for better for worse, Evbu my love... I pulled Evbu, my love out. It's actually my best pacesetter novel. I flipped through the pages and sniffed it.

Turning the music off, I grab the lavender and put it in a tiny glass vase, and set it in the center of the long ebony black dining table. Walking out of the conjoined dining room and kitchen I grab my book, my water bottle, and a blanket. I set the water and blanket by the back door that leads to the porch, and the beach a little off, and head back to the kitchen with my book. Of human bondage, by W. Somerset Maugham. The book itself isn't bad, but from my point of view, it's terribly bland. I like more poetic works. But also a hint of darkness. The best example is the poem, In the Desert, by Stephen Crane, from his book The Black Riders and Other Lines. It has a sense of dystopia that I ca

He handed her his tea and she drank it and they stood at the wall for another few minutes in the cold that was already warming as the morning advanced and then she turned and walked back into the keep to the study and the desk and the blank first page of the second book. She wrote the opening line. It started: The break happened in January. She kept writing.

But the second I did, it breathed. The book didn’t open. It unfolded. The cover split open in silence, pages spilling like silk, the air humming as the magic within adjusted to me. Not the other way around. I froze. There was no resistance. No permission asked. Just acceptance. Like the book had been waiting. The ink inside shifted before my eyes, words scrawling themselves across the first page in ink that shimmered between black and violet: To the One Who Was Hidden. To the One the Stars Remember.

"Then begin." She opened the book. The pages were heavy vellum, script ink written in flowing black. She breathed in and started reading, her voice deepening as she became caught up in the book. It was rich and sensual, of the god's coming, the scent of rain and mature grain that clung around him, the fear of the gentleness of his hands.

There was no acknowledgment or any author's note. “That is weird…” Looking at the floor, it looks clean. It won’t be bad to sit on the floor. There is also no dust left laying on it. “Alright… I shall start reading you" I let myself be dissolved in the world that the book has to offer for me. With a great terror in the very first part of it, I closed my eyes. “When you see the sky, shall you say goodbye~” “When you see the wave, Shall the sails go by~”

It wasn’t listed in any index. No title. No author. Just a cover etched with a symbol that made my wolf cower. A circle of jagged teeth. --- Ronan ignited a candle, the glow flickering warmly in the shadowed room. No electricity, no technology. “Words this old don’t tolerate wires,” he muttered, placing the flame gently between us. I didn’t bother to question his knowledge. I simply opened the book. The first line snagged my breath: “Where the Lock bleeds and the Keyhole binds, the Door will open. And beyond it waits the Nameless Moon.”