I WAS going home from the village, and it was an autumn evening, just after sunset, when every crop was cut and housed in our level country, and when the fields of stubble and browned grass had nothing on them, except here and there, a tree. They say our bare flats, in Cambridgeshire, are neither picturesque, nor beautiful. I cannot say for that—but I know no landscape has ever caught my eye like the long line of sunburnt, wiry grass, and the great, wide arch above, with all its shades of beautiful color. There were no hedgerows to skirt the path on which I was, and I saw nothing between me and the sky, save a solitary figure stalking along the highway, and in the other direction the clump of trees which surrounded Cottiswoode; the sky, in the west, was still full of the colors of the sunset, and from the horizon it rose upward in a multitude of tints and shades, the orange and red melting into a rosy flush which contrasted for a while, and then fell into the sweet, calm, peaceful tone of the full blue. In the time of the year, and the look of the night, there was alike that indescribable composure and satisfaction which are in the sunny evenings after harvest; the work was done, the day was fading, everything was going home; the rooks sailed over the sky, and the laborer trudged across the moor. Labor was over, and provision made, and the evening and the night, peace and refreshment, and rest were coming for every man. I do not suppose I noticed this at the time, but I have the strongest impression of it all in my remembrance now. And I was passing along, as I always did, quickly and, perhaps, with a firmer and a steadier step than was usual to girls of my years, swinging in my hand a bit of briony, which, for the sake of its beautiful berries, I was carrying home, but which stood a good chance of being destroyed before we got there—not taking leisure to look much about me, thinking of nothing particular, with a little air of the superior, the lady of the manor, in my independent carriage—a little pride of proprietorship in my firm footstep.

"The Days of My Life" by Mrs. Oliphant is a fascinating autobiography that offers readers a unique glimpse into the existence and reports of the esteemed Victorian-technology creator. Mrs. Oliphant, whose complete call is Margaret Oliphant Wilson Oliphant, become a prolific Scottish novelist and ancient creator, regarded for her eager observations and insightful storytelling. In this autobiographical work, Mrs. Oliphant reflects at the various stages of her lifestyles, recounting personal anecdotes, challenges, and triumphs. The narrative unfolds with a wealthy tapestry of reminiscences, presenting readers with an intimate know-how of the author's adventure via the 19th century. The creator's exclusive voice shines via as she stocks her perspectives on literature, society, and the changing times. Readers are treated to a literary adventure that not simplest explores Mrs. Oliphant's personal life but also gives reflections on the cultural and ancient milieu of her generation. Through eloquent prose, Mrs. Oliphant invites readers to join her on a reflective exploration of the substantial moments that shaped her identification as a creator and as a person. The memoir serves as a testament to her resilience, creativity, and intellectual interest.

"During the ten years in which Austin was their home, Amelia Barr took an active part in the social life of the frontier capital and wrote in her diary vivid pictures of many Texans and local events and scenes. In 1914 much of this material appeared in her autobiography, All the Days of My Life! Her accounts included women, Sam Houston, Indians who visited the capital, and local affairs concerning the Civil War. Though she did not show it outwardly, Amelia Barr was a mystic and deeply religious. Her life was governed by intuitions and prophetic dreams, many of which she related in striking detail. In 1866 the family moved to Galveston, where Barr had found new employment. In the yellow fever scourge of the next year, Barr and three sons died, leaving Mrs. Barr and three daughters. For a while she operated a boardinghouse on Tremont Street, but when this venture failed she went to New York"--Tshaonline.org.

For the first time, music legend and humanitarian activist Dionne Warwick reflects on 50 years in showbusiness and the lessons she has learned from being an artist, a mother and a global icon. From her rise to superstardom to raising millions of dollars for AIDS research, she gives readers a glimpse into her dazzling, inspiring life. 'If you think you can do it, you can do it' was the advice she got from her grandfather as a young girl - words she has never forgotten. Like her music and humanitarian work, her story is guaranteed to give hope and inspiration to people across the world.

Sadie Frost's tell-all covers her anarchic childhood, her two high-profile marriages, and finally growing up Sadie Frost has had an extraordinary life, from her humble roots in 1960s Britain to her middle-class adult life, via her two high-profile marriages and living out her life in the media spotlight. In this candid book, Sadie tells her life story in her own style. She discloses the details of her absolutely unique childhood and teenage years; she tells all the behind-the-scenes stories from the films she has worked on, including staying at Francis Ford Coppola's Hollywood home; and she reveals the story of her marriage to Spandau Ballet's Gary Kemp, and how she left her idyllic family life with him when she met Jude Law on the set of the film Shopping, later marrying him. She also discusses, at length, her life with Law, including her struggles with crippling postnatal depression. This is the story of a woman finding herself again--against all the odds--and finally growing up.