#first

I bear a deep red stain that runs from my left shoulder down to my right hip, a trail left by the herbwitch's poison that my mother used to try to expel me from her womb. ↗

— R.L. LaFevers

#birthmarks #first-sentence #first-sentence

CLARE: The library is cool and smells like carpet cleaner, although all I can see is marble. ↗

— Audrey Niffenegger

#first-sentence

I pinch the sentence's butt with my other hand and tug it from my skin like a leech, smack it back on the page and clamp the book shut. Part of it's hanging out, and it waves jerkily at me with what appears to be blatant hostility. I stick the book back on the upside-down shelf over my head, pissed off sentence first, counting on the gluey base to hold it in. All I need is a badly mangled, irate sentence stalking me. ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#iced #first-sentence

Unfortunately, I am only myself. ↗

— Lisa Burstein

#insecurity #first-sentence

Snowman wakes before dawn. ↗

— Margaret Atwood

#first-sentence

At school I was careful not to look like I watched everything, but I did. ↗

— Amanda Davis

#first-sentence

They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did. ↗

— Jean Rhys

#first-sentence

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, “without pictures or conversation? ↗

— Lewis Carroll

#first-sentence

Quite like old times,' the room says. ↗

— Jean Rhys

#first-sentence

Ten days after the war ended, my sister Laura drove a car off a bridge. ↗

— Margaret Atwood

#first-sentence