Famous First Lines
Compiled below are the first lines of popular novels and books, in no particular order. Use them as inspiration for your own first line!
I spent much of my childhood listening to the sounds of striving. It came in the form of bad music, or at least amateur music, coming up through the floorboards of my bedroom.
Michele Obama, Michele Obama, Becoming
They didn’t think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sourcerer’s Stone
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.
J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
George Orwell, 1984
At approximately 9:32 a.m. Moscow time on November 9, 2016, Deputy Vyacheslav Nikonov of the pro-Putin United Russia Party stepped up to the microphone in the Russian State Duma, the Russian equivalent of the House of Representatives, to make a highly unusual announcement.
Craig Unger, House of Trump, House of Putin: The Untold Story of Donald Trump and the Russian Mafia
Here's My Open: As we approach the publication date for this book, I continue to be amazed at how quickly the news moves, especially in the age of Trump. And, as if Donald J. Trump's election itself weren't enough of a shock to our nation's political core, the subsequent months have proved to be an ever greater jolt. The left-wing liberal media have savaged not only President Trump, but everyone around him.
Jeanine Pirro, Liars, Leakers and Liberals
My strongest memory is not a memory. It is something I imagined, then came to remember as if it had happened.
Tara Westover, Educated: A Memoir
This is a story of corruption. It begins, as it must, with Hillary Clinton.
Gregg Jarrett, The Russia Hoax: The Illicit Scheme to Clear Hillary Clinton and Frame Donald Trump
On Tuesday, December 12, 2017, I was sitting at my desk in the Eisenhower Executive office building (EEOB) in the White House complex, when my assistant, Alexa Pursley, walked in looking perplexed. "I just got an email from General Kelly's executive assistant," she said. "He wants to meet you in the Situation Room at five."
Omarosa Manigault Newman, Unhinged: An Insider’s Account of the Trump White House
It was an unmarked car, just some nondescript American sedan a few years old, but the blackwall tires and the three men inside gave it away for what it was.
Stephen King, The Outsider
"No. Not doing it." "When I called you were Johnny on the spot." "But I didn't know then about the weather. It's socked in solid, Dash." "Fog ain't solid. You can fly through it, you know. Like clouds. Or didn't your online flight school teach that?"
Sandra Brown, Tailspin
Mr. President. Mr Speaker. Technically in this context I should probably call him Mr. Chairman. But there are a lot of things I could call him that I won't.
Bill Clinton and James Patterson, The President Is Missing
"Surprise!" everyone shouted, as Mary DiNunzio opened the door to the conference room. The office was throwing her a baby shower, and she almost burst into tears of joy. Pregnancy had boosted her emotions past normal Italian-American levels, and for the past seven months, she'd been a walking bowl of estrogen.
Lisa Scottoline, Feared: A Rosato & DiNunzio Novel
My sweater was new, stinging red and ugly. It was May 12 but the temperature had dipped to the forties and after four days shivering in my shirtsleeves, I grabbed cover at a tag sale rather than dig through my boxed-up winter clothes.
Gillian Flynn, Sharp Objects
Professor Robert Langdon gazed up at the forty-foot-tall dog sitting in the plaza. The animal's fur was a living carpet of grass and fragrant flowers. "I'm trying to love you," he thought. "I truly am."
Dan Brown, Origin
I push my boot against the gas pedal, and the needle on the speedometer surges past one hundred. The Ford's lights are flashing and sirens are howling, but I'm going so fast that I'm on top of the pickup before the driver even knows I'm there.
James Patterson and Andrew Bourelle, Texas Ranger
Nicholas Yung slumped into the nearest seat in the hotel lobby, drained from the sixteen-hour flight from Singapore, the train ride from Heathrow Airport, and trudging through the rain-soaked streets.
Kevin Kwan, Crazy Rich Asians