Classic Novel Reading List Novels & Stories

The walls being light colored didn’t surprise me more than the mountains upon mountains of books he has sitting on bookshelves surrounding the room. I walk around the room running my hands over all the different titles and authors. Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, H.G Wells, and so much more. Wuthering Heights, a first edition version sat in a case in between the shelves by a set of double doors to what looks like a balcony. It stuck out to me more than any of the other titles because it surprises me more than anything that he would read a book such as that. I try to picture in my head him sitting in a chair with glasses, all relaxed and snuggled up reading a classical romance novel

Alana let go of our hands, darting toward the children’s section at the end of the hall. Suddenly, it was just the two of us. Standing side by side in the narrow aisle of classic literature. Gareth tucked his hands into his pockets, scanning the spines of the books with a quiet, respectful interest. "What do you usually go for, Claire?" he asked softly. His voice seemed to blend into the hum of the air conditioning. I ran my fingers along the worn spines of the hardcovers. "The classics. Jane Austen, the Brontës... anything with beautiful prose and a happy ending. I suppose I like the escape."

he stated and went back to his phone. Then we had literature. The topic was classic genre. “Which English authors you can name from classic genre?” Mr. Adams asked. I raised my hand, but so did Raf, which caught me off guard. “Raf, please name them!” teacher asked. “Jane Austen, sisters Brontes, Charles Dickens and of course, William Shakespeare,” Raf stated. “Great! Who is your favorite author?”

the girl observed, knowing that while everyone had their sports preferences, they shared a great passion for literature. "No way!" The older man doubted. "Young people are interested in the old and good literature still?" "My grandfather has a large library at home, and fortunately, he made my cousin and me read several classic works, and I ended up liking some of them a lot. I've read Great Expectations more than once... and also Oliver Twist. I didn't like Bleak House that much, not to say that I love everything I've read from him, but, on the other hand, probably The Old Curiosity Shop is the book I've read the most times in my life."

I missed my mate, my freedom, my friends, Kailin, and everyone at the vineyards. I watched a series about a group of delinquent kids born in space and dropped to Earth to see if the air was already breathable. I finished Episode twelve, and when a particular character pissed me off, I turned it off and went to read something in the study. There were some fiction books, but primarily old books from Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, and Herman Melville. There were self-help and meditation books and a book about mystical creatures. I walked out of the study. If she allowed me to read a book about witchcraft, it might interest me, but that would be as dangerous as walking into the darkness without

he said softly, leaning towards Sammy. - Why? She raised her eyes. – Like, is it not very fashionable to be interested in classical literature? Doyle shrugged. "It's not fashionable to be stupid," he said. - And in the classics you can learn a lot of useful things. Unless, of course, you know where to look. "I didn't know you were a reader," Sammy giggled. “Okay, then how did you figure out Jane Eyre?” - Frog, it's so simple. Travis's blue eyes sparkled. - You look like a heroine.

Marie said. "All literary characters." Pearl said after hearing about them. "Their names. Oliver, that's Dickens. Holden, that's Salinger. Atticus, is Harper Lee and Maisie, that's Henry James and Kipling." "Yes!" Marie smiled. "Not many catch that, I am and always have been an avid reader and lover of literature." "Same here." Pearl said. She was failing in love with his parents too. And no mention of money and no hint of billions. Ian was a liar.

"Exquisite." "Are you sure you don't mean superb?" "Meritorious might work better." "You got that from Stephen King?" "I have no idea where it came from. What do you like to read?" "The classics-fiction, non-fiction, the phonebook." God she was perfect. "You read everything, I take it?" "Just about. There's a thrift store down the street and every now and then I find an oldie but goody for a quarter."

The library’s floor is polished, and it has a granite fireplace and a comfortable, well-worn sitting arrangement. I heave a sigh, relieved that Ms. Lennie isn’t around to reprimand me. I’ve always loved reading and collecting romance books at home, so seeing these shelves just makes my heart soar. I start my journey inside, searching for cookbooks. Instead, I stumble upon a book placed in a glass cage in the middle of the classics section. I lean forward, touching the glass as I try to read the title. It’s Macbeth and Hamlet by William Shakespeare. The air instantly abandons my lungs when I catch sight of the leather-bound cover. It’s very old but still stunning.

“Well, having a degree in English Literature, you’d think so. But I love so many of them. I’m partial to the classics—Keats and Shelley, Lord Byron, Shakespeare…” “So you’re a romantic, huh?” she teased, keeping her back to him as she perused his impressive collection. Running his hands through his hair, he grinned. “I’m impressed you know your eighteenth century literature, young lady.” The back of her blonde tresses moved up and down as she seemed to nod. Before he could suggest she pick out a book to read over the weekend, she suddenly squealed with delight. “Oh! I loved this book in high school.” Standing on her tiptoes, she pulled down a thin paperback and turned