Romans & histoires Best Opening Lines Of A Book

The Pen of Beginnings rose into the air. It circled the notebook once... then rested gently upon its first page. Without touching it... golden letters appeared. Every choice creates another world. The moment the sentence was completed... one empty shelf trembled. A single book slowly appeared. Its cover shimmered with silver light. The title read: The First Line Adrian stared. "The chapter we just lived..." The girl nodded happily. "It became a story." Another shelf glowed. Then another. Books began appearing throughout the endless library. Every decision.

“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

One note, at the end of the document, was not about the text but about the structure, and it was the note she would think about longest. Harriet had written: The book begins when Aria arrives. But the story begins before she arrives, in the silence that preceded her and that her arrival ended. I wonder whether there is a brief opening, before the waiting room, that gives the reader the shape of what has been happening in the house in the absence of something it needed. Not a chapter. Perhaps only a page. Something that establishes the silence before we understand that it is about to change. Aria looked at this note for a long time.

Even in such a solemn moment, the little silver wolf refused to let despair linger for long. Mercy suddenly looked toward the blank Book of Origins. "It is time." The book floated into the air. Though every page had been empty moments before, words slowly began appearing—not glowing silver, not crimson, but golden. The handwriting was elegant and ancient. The Moon Goddess looked surprised. "I never wrote this." Mercy smiled knowingly. "No. You didn't." Aiden carefully read the first lines aloud: > *When the Book becomes empty...* > *Its author has finished speaking.*

* The thought made her mouth water despite the flutter of panic in her belly, her small hands trembling as she wrapped them around the base, fingers barely meeting around the girth, the skin hot and velvet-smooth under her palms, pulsing with his heartbeat. Trent threaded his fingers gently into her ponytail at first, guiding her forward. "Open wide, naughty girl. First time's gotta be sloppy." Lucy parted her lips hesitantly, tongue darting out to lap the pre-cum salty-bitter tang exploding on her taste buds, making her pussy clench wetly in her panties. She stretched her jaw wide, the head popping past her lips with a soft, obscene suck, filling her mouth instantly. The ridges bumped her t

“Out loud. In this room.” Rhys looks at me. I look at the carpet. The book is in my bag because the book is always in my bag because carrying the book is like carrying proof that I was someone before the arrangement – a writer, a person, a girl with a voice, a woman whose words mattered enough to bind and sell – and I pull out the manuscript and open to page one and the first sentence sits on the page the way the first sentence always sits, with the specific gravity of an opening line that changed my life.

“Dear Felicity, The road ahead is not an easy one. Things will constantly change. And some, are not what they seem. With lots of love, Mommy.” All this time she had had the book but she had never noticed the handwritten message on the first page. Her day might not have started well, but now, she felt like she could handle anything. A genuine smile spread on her face. Felicity sat back comfortably and began reading the contents of the book. This was much better than starting a conversation with someone she felt she did not know anymore.

A/N: Dear readers, If you have found my book, I want to ask you to stick with it for a while because the way it starts might be confusing, but it has a perfectly good explanation, and everything will be clear soon enough. Promise it will be worth it. Love, O.W. Sophia

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.

The book is massive, easily over two thousand pages, the weight of it pulling at my arms. Of course it’s this complicated. I bite back my frustration, reminding myself that this might be the only chance I have to get answers. I carry the book to an alcove, the leather seat creaking as I lower myself into it. The book lands on the desk with a soft thud, dust rising around it in a lazy cloud. The first page is brittle, the ink faded, but I manage to make out the opening line as I try carefully not to tear the paper: