First Sentences
There’s a special set of stories in which not only is the story itself well known, but the first sentence or two is particularly memorable. Three come to mind:
“Call me Ishmael,” from Melville’s Moby Dick. This is surely the best-known opening sentence in an English novel, which is strange, considering that it doesn’t convey any distinctive idea. Its popularity is a testament to the power of short sentences.
“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,” from Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. I think that it’s a profound thought.
“It is a sin to write this,” from Ayn Rand’s short story Anthem. It’s not as well-known of a story as the other two, but that first sentence is short, hits hard, and immediately conveys the story’s sense of paranoia.
Can you think of any others?
Update: I just remembered another, arguably the most famous: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” from Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. That’s not technically the entire first sentence; there’s no period for another hundred words. It’s surprisingly readable, though, for such a long sentence.