David Foster Wallace Favorite Books Novels & Stories

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.” “Did you know I stabbed Ryden when he was possessed? He almost died. Then I stabbed you, too, and I almost killed you. What’s next? I’m gonna stab myself?” “It won’t come down to that, Amelia. I won’t let that happen. Glad you found a way to ward off wraiths. You’re always this clever.” He turned to me. “You like poets.” “Me?” I laughed. “Really?” “Emily Dickinson is your favorite. You like classics like Oscar Wilde and Shakespeare. Let me show you something.” He got up from bed and went to the walk-in closet. When he came back, he had a small shoebox with me. He brought it to bed and removed the lid.

he watches my arms tremble with anger. I glare at him. "Stop being so damn bipolar. Pick up your fucking mess. I'm going back upstairs and I'll read a book or something." I grumble, turning on my heels and going back from where I had come from. ***** After an hour of reading an interesting novel, I shut the book and skim my fingers over the cover. Classic books and poems have always been my thing, but some of them are extremely hard to read. Shakespeare is my all time favorite author. Although he writes tragedies, and darkness, I absolutely adore the way he tells a tale. Each and every word of his wraps around your heart and tugs on a string. He brings so much emotion into what he writes.

“I kind of prefer to do my own cooking. Unless I’m throwing a party. Then I can get six chefs in here.” Then we took a tour of his library. It was piled high with books. On the shelves behind were books about computers, technology, programming. I could see that Alex didn’t read much for fun. But I did smile when I saw a few science-fiction books at the top of one of the shelf. They had names likeThe Thing From MarsandGalaxy War. They looked old, too. Had they been his teenage obsession? The floor and the tables were littered with legal volumes, some of which still had barely been unwrapped from their packaging.

“I know what you mean. I had one too—it was a family outing for us, going to the library. My mom insisted my brother and I read books if we wanted to play video games. I was that nerdy kid who actually preferred reading to gaming. I guess it carried over into adulthood.” Fiona’s gaze focused on his face, and one side of her mouth smirked. “Nothing wrong with that.” Handing the book back to him, she continued to investigate the books lining the shelves. “Do you have a favorite in here or in one of the boxes?” Chris chuckled. “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…”

"And what's your favorite?" "Oh that's too hard to choose sir. I mean of course I love classics like The Great Gatsby, 1984, and One Flew of the Cuckoo's Nest. I'm crazy about the James Bond books. But I have to say Misery is my favorite book. Stephen King is a genius." "So all that's told me is you read in high school and that's it. Aren't those all required reading?" "Daddy." I whispered. He took a long gulp from his glass. Sophia closed her eyes as though she was embarrassed.

"What have you been up to all this while?" "You want to know what I've been doing in my spare time," I asked, surprised that he cared at all. My hands instinctively clamped my neck as I remembered what had happened. He was a man of different shades. "Yes" He said, looking steadily at me. "Nothing much, I've been going to the library. This place has an interesting collection" "Is that so?, what are your favourites so far?" He asked, lighting up at the mention of books. "Well, I've seen many of the classics. Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Cervantes. The novel section is divided into time periods. For some reason though, Dickens is missing and he's one of my favorites."

“And a book? I have tons of books in the study room, but which one will you get?” “Yes,” I smiled again. “The Art of War.” He smirked at me, closing his eyes as he whispered the title. “The Art of War…” He opened his eyes. “Did you know that it’s my favorite book? Why don’t I just buy you a new one?” I shook my head. “I preferred that one because of your own notes, Mr. Mars,” I remembered how he carefully underlined the words and wrote some notes on the white spaces of the book.

I like taking my time, that way, I can get used to the idea of living with Xander. Sitting behind the counter in the bookstore, I listen to Vincent talking to his cars while I place an order for new books. One of those books is The Art of War by Sun Tsu. I want to read it and see why Alexei loves it so much. My thoughts turn to the BBQ, and I must admit, I enjoyed it a lot. And Rosemarie was right. Everyone seemed pretty normal. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe guns and men smoking cigars while plotting the end of the world?

So while he stands behind me watching me, which both intimidates and excites me, I take each book out, one by one, pulling them from the bookcase, some wonderful editions of Jane Austen, Dickens, Ovid, Homer, Kundera and then 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' and, finally, Lolita. As I put Lolita on the top pile, I let out a sigh. I feel Paul slowly approach from behind me.

He gestured to the book on their small table. Since her arrival, they delivered new books more frequently and even were considerate to her preferences. The second common room had almost turned into a library consisting of mostly romance and fantasy novels. However, despite the bi-weekly deliveries, there was nothing to do in prison besides read, finding Daisy finishing books extremely quickly. Dave would often surprise her with new trending books or secondhand ones that his youngest daughter had already read and grown bored of. She was an avid reader as well apparently. Wasting no time, she stretched her arm to reach the book, having no desire to leave her comfortable position. "It's a Gordo