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Practice and improve writing style. Write like Mark Twain

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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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“Tom,” whispered Huckleberry, “does this keep us from ever telling—always?”

 

“Lookyhere, Huck, what fools we’re making of ourselves! Injun Joe’s ghost ain’t a going to come around where there’s a cross!”

 

“I’ll try, but don’t you be afeard. They ain’t going to hurt us. ‘Now I lay me down to sleep, I—’”

 

Sid chuckled in a very contented and satisfied way.

 

“Nothing. Nothing ’t I know of.” But the boy’s hand shook so that he spilled his coffee.

 

He began to count the money on the path, we on our knees eagerly helping to stack it in little piles.

 

We boys wanted to go and see Marget and show friendliness for her, but our parents were afraid of offending the community and wouldn't let us. The astrologer was going around inflaming everybody against Father Peter, and saying he was an abandoned thief and had stolen eleven hundred and seven gold ducats from him. He said he knew he was a thief from that fact, for it was exactly the sum he had lost and which Father Peter pretended he had “found.”

 

“Far away?” said Satan. “To me no place is far away; distance does not exist for me. The sun is less than a hundred million miles from here, and the light that is falling upon us has taken eight minutes to come; but I can make that flight, or any other, in a fraction of time so minute that it cannot be measured by a watch. I have but to think the journey, and it is accomplished.”

 

The scene changed, and we saw Noah overcome with wine.

 

“If I prove that this money here was not that money, then it is not his?”

 

After a while the weather grew milder, and the clouds lifted somewhat. The troop ceased to shiver, and their spirits began to improve.  They grew more and more cheerful, and finally began to chaff each other and insult passengers along the highway.  This showed that they were awaking to an appreciation of life and its joys once more.  The dread in which their sort was held was apparent in the fact that everybody gave them the road, and took their ribald insolences meekly, without venturing to talk back. They snatched linen from the hedges, occasionally in full view of the owners, who made no protest, but only seemed grateful that they did not take the hedges, too.

 

“It is a fat pig, and promises good eating; I will buy it of thee; here is the eightpence.”

 

“Armed!  What of it, and ye so many?  Upon him, I say!”

 

“Oh, is that all?  Ask no permission of Miles Hendon for aught thou cravest.  Make thyself perfectly free here, and welcome, with all that are his belongings.”

 

Now to the sound of gay music the Yeomen of the Guard entered,—“the tallest and mightiest men in England, they being carefully selected in this regard”—but we will let the chronicler tell about it:—

 

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