00:00 - What is it? - Let me see. Tales of Mystery and Imagination by Edgar Allan Poe. - Learn it quickly so that we can burn it. - You burn it? - Yes, of course, we have to, so that no one can take them away from us. - Yes, we burn the books, but we keep them up here, where nobody can find them. As a matter of fact, we've just burned the Memoirs of Saint-Simon.
00:29 - You see, Montuck, that man over there hasn't much longer to live.
00:36 - He's the Weir of Hermiston by Robert Louis Stevenson. The boy is his nephew. He's now reciting himself so the boy can become the book.
00:43 - I will be very quiet, replied Archie, and I will be boldly frank. I do not love my father. I wonder sometimes if I do not hate him. - There's my shame, perhaps my sin. At least and in the sight of God, not my fault.
01:08 - How was I to love him? He has never spoken to me, never smiled upon me. I do not think he ever touched me. - He was more afraid of death than of anything else, and he died as he thought he would, while the first snows of winter fell.
01:37 - He was more afraid of death than of anything else, and he died as he thought he would, while the first snows of winter fell.
01:55 - He was more afraid of death than of anything else, and he died as he thought he would, while the first snows of winter fell.
02:24 - He was more afraid of death than of anything else, and he died as he thought he would, while the first snows of winter fell.
02:50 - He was more afraid of death than of anything else, and he died as he thought he would, while the first snows of winter fell.
03:19 - He was more afraid of death than of anything else, and he died as he thought he would, while the first snows of winter fell.
03:44 - He was more afraid of death than of anything else, and he died as he thought he would, while the first snows of winter fell.
04:09 - He was more afraid of death than of anything else, and he died as he thought he would, while the first snows of winter fell.
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