15 discoveries later
Which one keeps calling?
Choose a stream to follow and continue in Read, or shuffle the shelves for another flight.The Importance of Being Earnest: A Trivial Comedy for Serious People
They judge character by the way a chin is worn—style has replaced principle.
Wilde, OscarThe Importance of Being Earnest: A Trivial Comedy for Serious People
She tells him to acquire relations—and to produce a parent before the season ends; how does one go about manufacturing a parent?
Wilde, OscarThe Yellow Wallpaper
The pattern seems to strangle them, turning bodies upside-down and leaving their eyes white—what if their heads were gone?
Gilman, Charlotte PerkinsThe Yellow Wallpaper
I can't be bothered to lift a hand; I'm dreadfully fretful and cry at nothing, most of the time.
Gilman, Charlotte PerkinsThe Yellow Wallpaper
Someone is always trying to climb through the paper—its strangling, many‑headed pattern refuses to let them pass.
Gilman, Charlotte PerkinsA Christmas Carol
One gentle word at night can make a house feel like heaven—what did he say to change everything?
Charles DickensA Christmas Carol
The Ghost sprinkles his torch over a four-roomed house—why would blessing choose the poorest chimney?
Charles DickensA Christmas Carol
His phantom shrank into a bedpost—what fear can so suddenly collapse into ordinary furniture?
Charles DickensA Christmas Carol
I set out to raise a harmless ghost of an idea—will you let it haunt you pleasantly?
Charles DickensA Christmas Carol
He collapses and begs the spirit for a promise of change—what would he risk to erase his past?
Charles DickensA Christmas Carol
Some cloak cruelty in piety—whose deeds will you charge to the doer, not the name they invoke?
Charles DickensNarrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave
Boys joked it cost a half-cent to kill a Black person—and the world around them did nothing to stop it.
John ChuaNarrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave
I crawled into a corn sack to sleep on the damp floor—my feet so cracked by frost that they bled into the pen I write with.
John ChuaNarrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave
Their songs made the woods ring—voices that braided highest joy and deepest sorrow as they walked to the Great House Farm.
John ChuaNarrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave
At Christmas a slave who stayed sober was nearly a disgrace—masters preferred their laborers merry and manageable.
John Chua