1
She was lying in her hammock with an unread book on her knees.
2
I didn't stop to pick up my precious, unread book.
3
Her head was resting on her hand, an unread book lay open on her lap.
4
The world of subterfuge was an unread book.
5
He had spent his morning restlessly, pacing up and down the woodlands, with an unread book under his arm.
6
Sylvia was sitting in the garden, an unread book on her knees, dreaming among red and yellow and orange gladioli.
7
I loved the mornings then-sunnyor gray, they were as delightful as an unread book-andnow I hate them-hate them-hate them!
8
He had thought of it a good deal after dinner that day, as he sat with the unread book in his lap.
9
Just as every bookshelf has a long- unread book and every closet has a long-unworn shirt, every wedding reception has a poor aunt.
10
He looked gloomy as he sat there with his unread book in his hand, yet gradually an eager, happy light crept into his eyes.
11
Their little starts of passion, their petty angers and their sweet repentances-allwere unexplored by me, for Love to me was yet an unread book.
12
I've got an appalling number of unread books and I'm chipping my way through them.
13
It's something I grabbed from a stack of unread books I've collected over the years.
14
And the more I read, the greater, I guess, grows the library of unread books.
15
A list of our unread books torments some of us like a list of murders
16
Sir, -Over the past number of years, I have accumulated over five yards of unread books.