Mindblown: a blog about philosophy.

POSSESSING PRUDENCE BY AMY WENTWORTH STONE I ‘A lie’s an abomination unto the Lord a hundred and twenty-four, a lie’s an abomination unto the Lord a hundred and twenty-five, a lie’s an abomination unto the Lord a hundred and twenty-six,’ recited Prudence Jane, and paused. ‘Go on,’ said Aunt Annie, looking up from her sewing…

A Scandal In Bohemia To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent…

IT was longer than the squire imagined ere we were ready for the sea, and none of our first plans—not even Dr. Livesey’s, of keeping me beside him—could be carried out as we intended. The doctor had to go to London for a physician to take charge of his practice; the squire was hard at…

THE RECONCILIATION Temple had scarcely been with Findlay five minutes before he felt his old resentments, and the memory of that unforgettable wrong growing vivid again. But with the infatuation of his good resolution still upon him, he maintained the air of sham reconciliation that Findlay had welcomed so eagerly. They talked of this and…

TRANSFORMATION. “Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench’d With a woful agony, Which forced me to begin my tale, And then it set me free. “Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns; And till my ghastly tale is told This heart within me burns.” —Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner. I have heard it said, that,…

More books from Oscar Wilde

BUSINESS IS BUSINESS BY HENRY SEIDEL CANBY I Six hours on the train had nearly exhausted Joseph Cargan. He had read all the available magazines, looked up his connections twice in the railway guide, and even gazed for an hour out of the window. But there were only woods and farms to be seen, scarcely…

IN NO STRANGE LAND BY KATHARINE BUTLER HE was in the heart of the crowd, in it, and of it—the crowd of late afternoon whose simultaneous movement is the expression of a common wish to cease to be a crowd. His was one of the thousand faces that are almost tragical with weariness, tragical without…