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Practice and improve writing style.

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Practice and improve your writing style below

Below, I have some random texts from popular authors. All you have to do is, spend some time daily, and type these lines in the box below. And, eventually, your brain picks the writing style, and your own writing style improves!

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'We should have some celery. But I don't think there is any or the Gran Maestro would have brought it.'

 

'You needn't be,' the second waiter said. 'You were a foot soldier as I was.'

 

And yet, he thought, seeing now the little villa, close up against the water, ugly as a building you would see on the boat train from Havre or Cherbourg, coming into the banlieue before Paris as you came into town. It was overrun with badly administered trees, and not a place that you would live in if you could help it. There he lived.

 

He regretted this as he regretted all his errors. He walked past portrait, only looking casually and looked at himself in the mirror. He had dropped both parts of his pyjamas and he looked at himself critically and truly.

 

'I know it from the Gondoliere. This boy is a very good painter, for now. There aren't any really good painters now. But with false teeth, now, in his twenty-fifth year, what a thing.'

 

Til be back in the morning,' the doctor said, standing up. 'The nurse should be here from St. Ignace by noon and she'll bring everything we need.'

 

'Darling, you don't know how marvellous it is to see you feeling better. I couldn't stand it when you felt that way. You won't talk to me like that again, will you? Promise me?'

 

HAPPY LIFE OF FRANCIS M A C O M B E R 19

 

'This is where it's good,' the innkeeper said. 'Listen to this. Go on, Franz.'

 

'That's where the first bull went in. The gun-bearer said when he fell off the bull was down. He was watching us helling along and the other two buff galloping. When he looked up there was the bull up and looking at him. Gun-bearer ran like hell and the bull went off slowly into that bush.'

 

"The hell with luck," the boy said. "I'll bring the luck with me."

 

"I had better re-bait that little line out over the stern," he said. "If the fish decides to stay another night I will need to eat again and the water is low in the bottle. I don't think I can get anything but a dolphin here. But if I eat him fresh enough he won't be bad. I wish a flying fish would come on board tonight. But I have no light to attract them. A flying fish is excellent to eat raw and I would not have to cut him up. I must save all my strength now. Christ, I did not know he was so big."

 

Do you believe the great DiMaggio would stay with a fish as long as I will stay with this one? he thought. I am sure he would and more since he is young and strong. Also his father was a fisherman. But would the bone spur hurt him too much?

 

The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him.

 

"Clear up, head," he said in a voice he could hardly hear. "Clear up."

 

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