#sentence

It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love. ↗

— Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez

#love

Then starting home, he walked toward the trees, and under them, leaving behind him the big sky, the whisper of wind voices in the wind-bent wheat. ↗

— Truman Capote

#home

It is cold at six-forty in the morning on a March day in Paris, and seems even colder when a man is about to be executed by firing squad. ↗

— Frederick Forsyth

#execution #first-line #first-lines #first-sentence #frederick-forsyth

It was a short one-paragraph item in the morning edition. ↗

— Haruki Murakami

#first-sentence

Hapscomb's Texaco sat on Number 93 just north of Arnette, a pissant four-street burg about 110 miles from Houston. ↗

— Stephen King

#first-sentence

The way you live each day is a sentence in the story of your life. Every day, you make the choice whether the sentence ends with a period, question mark, or exclamation point. ↗

— Steve Maraboli

#each-day #life #sentence #story #experience

It was shaping up as a beautiful morning. The last thing I wanted to hear about was murder. ↗

— Jonathan Kellerman

#first-lines #first-sentence #beauty

What else exhausts like sustained deception? ↗

— Leif Enger

#deception

All the June Saturday afternoon Sam Pollit's children were on the lookout for him as they skated round the dirt sidewalks and seamed old asphalt of R Street and Reservoir Road that bounded the deep-grassed acres of Tohoga House, their home. ↗

— Christina Stead

#home

Christmas crept into Pine Cove like a creeping Christmas thing: dragging garland, ribbon, and sleigh bells, oozing eggnog, reeking of pine, and threatening festive doom like a cold sore under the mistletoe. ↗

— Christopher Moore

#humor #humor