In this groundbreaking tale by H. G. Wells, a Victorian-era time traveller explores a distant and dystopian future populated by fragile Eloi and bestial Morlocks...

After his legs were set, they carried Bailey into the study and put him on a couch before the open window. There he lay, a live—even a feverish man down to the loins, and below...

As I sit writing in my study, I can hear our Jane bumping her way downstairs with a brush and dust-pan. She used in the old days to sing hymn tunes, or the British national song...

We had golfed until golfing was invisible; we had dined, and we were in that mood of tranquil kindliness when men will suffer a story. When Clayton began to tell one, we naturally...

Certainly, if ever a man found a guinea when he was looking for a pin, it is my good friend Professor Gibberne. I have heard before of investigators overshooting the mark, but...

Gottfried Plattner is, in spite of his name, a freeborn Englishman. His father was an Alsatian who came to England in the sixties, married a respectable English girl of...

There was once a little man whose mother made him a beautiful suit of clothes. It was green and gold and woven so that I cannot describe how delicate and fine it was, and there...

That past!… I was—in those days—rather a nice fellow, rather shy— taste for grey in my clothes, weedy little moustache, face interesting, slight stutter which I had caught...

One confidential evening, not three months ago, Lionel Wallace told me this story of the Door in the Wall. And at the time I thought that so far as he was concerned it was a true...

It is quite impossible to say whether this thing really happened. It depends entirely on the word of R.M. Harringay, who is an artist.