Title: Animal Farm  Author: George Orwell Subjects: Classic; Fantasy; Fiction; Children  According to Orwell, the fable reflects...

So here are you, and here am I, Where we may thank our gods to be; Above the earth, beneath the sky, Naked souls alive and free. T...

Empty as death and slow as pain The days went by on leaden feet; And parson's week had come again As I walked down the little st...

Brush your teeth up and down, brother, Oh, brush them up and down! All the folks in London Town Brush their teeth right up and down....

Our minds are married, but we are too young For wedlock by the customs of this age When parent homes pen each in separte cage An...

No stone is set to mark his nation’s loss, No stately tomb enshrines his noble breast; Not e’en the tribute of a wooden cross Ca...

When I was young and had no sense In far-off Mandalay I lost my heart to a Burmese girl As lovely as the day. Her skin was gold,...

OH! give me the strength of the Lion, The wisdom of reynard the Fox And then I’ll hurl troops at the Germans And give them the h...

A happy vicar I might have been Two hundred years ago To preach upon eternal doom And watch my walnuts grow; But born, alas, in ...

Saints should always be judged guilty until they are proved innocent, but the tests that have to be applied to them are not, of course, th...

From a very early age, perhaps the age of five or six, I knew that when I grew up I should be a writer. Between the ages of about seventee...

As the advance into Germany continues and more and more of the devastation wrought by the Allied bombing planes is laid bare, there are th...

The thought of Christmas raises almost automatically the thought of Charles Dickens, and for two very good reasons. To begin with, Dickens...

Mark Twain has crashed the lofty gates of the Everyman library, but only with Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, already fairly well known u...

The Spanish war has probably produced a richer crop of lies than any event since the Great War of 1914-18, but I honestly doubt, in spite ...

When I worked in a second-hand bookshop – so easily pictured, if you don't work in one, as a kind of paradise where charming old gentl...

It was in Burma, a sodden morning of the rains. A sickly light, like yellow tinfoil, was slanting over the high walls into the jail yard. ...

In Moulmein, in Lower Burma, I was hated by large numbers of people – the only time in my life that I have been important enough for this ...