A Separate Peace online book

“I know why you’re talking like this,” I said, struggling to keep up with him. “Now I understand. You’re still under the influen ...

toward anything which presented itself. It turned out to be the exercise bar. I sprang up, grabbed it, and then, in a fumbling a ...

And now when we were served chicken livers for dinner I couldn’t help conceiving a mental picture of President Roosevelt and my ...

all this work, and from now on would only go rackingly through the motions. My knees were boneless again, ready any minute to le ...

“He’s developing into a real athlete,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’re aiming for the ‘44 Olympics.” Mr. Ludsbury emitted a sin ...

and the Navy was vulnerable to scurvy. Nothing tainted these white warriors of winter as they swooped down their spotless mounta ...

It probably would have been better for all of us if someone like Brinker had been the first to go. He could have been depended u ...

gutters, a gray seamy shifting beneath the crust of snow, which cracks to show patches of frozen mud beneath. Shrubbery loses it ...

And because it was Finny’s idea, it happened as he said, although not as easily as some of his earlier inspirations. For our dor ...

until at last we came. Then Brownie crept back to the dormitory, too exhausted to enjoy the carnival at all. On this day of high ...

Gibraltar invulnerability; he continued to gaze challengingly around him until he began to realize that wherever he looked, calc ...

I jerked the jug to my mouth and took a huge gulp of cider in relief, and the violence latent in the day drifted away; perhaps t ...

And it was this which caused me not to notice Brownie Perkins rejoin us from the dormitory, and not to hear what he was saying u ...

seemingly near no town whatever, a bus station in which none of the people were fully awake, or seemed clean, or looked as thoug ...

“Well, it’s a useful room.” “Yes, I guess it’s useful, all right.” “You aren’t lost for something to do in dining rooms. It’s in ...

“I didn’t get any pass,” he groaned; with the sliding despair of his face and his clenched hands, that’s what it was; a groan. “ ...

expression you’ve got on your face, like you were looking at someone with their nose blown off but don’t want them to know you’r ...

Mrs. Lepellier was helping Leper toward the stairs. “Don’t go,” he said between chuckles, “stay for lunch. You can count on it. ...

We walked on, the crust cracking uneasily under us. “Nervous in the service,” I said. “That sounds like one of Brinker’s poems.” ...

us up every morning when it was pitch black, and there was food like the kind we throw out here, and all my clothes were gone an ...