3. Match the writer and his work:

1. T.S Eliot 1) Vanity Fair

2. James Joyce 2) The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

3. H.G.Wells 3) Nineteen 84

4. George Orwell 4) To the Lighthouse

5. John Fowles 5) Ulysses

6. Joseph Conrad 6) The Waste Land

7. K.Vonnegut 7) One Hundred Years of Solitude

8. Arthur Conan Doyle 8) Lady Chatterley’s Lover

9. Aldous Huxley 9) The Sea, the Sea

10. Agatha Chtistie 10) The Lord of the Flies

11. Graham Green 11) The Shape of Things to Come

12. Charles Dickens 12) Lyrical Ballads

13. G.G Marques 13) Slaughterhouse - 5

14. W.Golding 14) Murder on the Orient Express

15. I.Muroch 15) The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

16. William Wordsworth 16) Heart of Darkness

17. D.H.Lawrence 17) David Copperfield

18. V.Woolf 18) The French Lieutenant’s Woman

19. Robert Louis Stevenson 19) Brave New World

20. W.Thackeray 20) The Quiet American

4. Guess the name of the author, as well as the name of the work, according to the extracts that follow. Prove your choice.

1) The river of life, of mysterious laws and mysterious choice, flows past a deserted embankment; and along that other deserted embankment Charles now begins to pace, a man behind the invisible gun carriage on which rests his own corpse. He walks towards an imminent, self-given death? I think not; for he has at last found an atom of faith in himself, a true uniqueness, on which to build; has already begun, though he would still bitterly deny it, though there are tears in his eyes to support his denial, to realize that life, however advantageously Sarah may in some ways seem to fit the role of Sphinx, is not a symbol, is not one riddle and one failure to guess it, is not to inhabit one face alone or to be given up after one losing throw of the dice; but is to be, however inadequately, emptily, hopelessly into the city’s iron heart, endured. And out again, upon the unplumb’d, salt, estranging sea.

2) Two boys rolled out of a pile of brushwood and dead leaves, two dim shadows talking sleepingly to each other. Soon the darkness was full of awful unknown and menace. ….Ralph looked for a moment at the growing slice of gold that lit them from the right hand and seemed to make speech possible…..Ralph too was fighting to get near to get a handful of that brown vulnerable flesh.

3) From his girdle hung a row of seastones which dangled at every movement of his portentous frame and on these were graven with rude yet striking art the tribal images of many Irish heroes and heroines of antiquity, Cuchulin, Conn of hundred battles, Niall of nine hostages, Brian of Kincora, the Ardri Malachi, Art MacMurragh, Shane O'Neill, Father John Murphy, Owen Roe, Patrick Sarsfield, Red Hugh O'Donnell, Red Jim MacDermott, Soggarth Eoghan O'Growney, Michael Dwyer, Francy Higgins, Henry Joy M'Cracken, Goliath, Horace Wheatley, Thomas Conneff, Peg Woffington, the Village Blacksmith, Captain Moonlight, Captain Boycott, Dante Alighieri, Christopher Columbus, S. Fursa, S. Brendan, Marshal Mac-Mahon, Charlemagne, Theobald Wolfe Tone, the Mother of the Maccabees, the Last of the Mohicans, the Rose of Castille, the Man for Galway, The Man that Broke the Bank at Monte Carlo, The Man in the Gap, The Woman Who Didn't, Benjamin Franklin, Napoleon Bonaparte, John L. Sullivan, Cleopatra, Savourneen Deelish, Julius Caesar, Paracelsus, sir Thomas Lipton, William Tell, Michelangelo, Hayes, Muhammad…

4) She was like a fox, or an olive tree; like the waves of the sea when you look down upon them a height; like an emerald; like the sun on a green hill which is yet clouded – like nothing he had seen or known in England.

Indeed, looking at them together (which he could hardly bring himself to do) Orlando was outraged by the foulness of his imagination that could have painted so frail a creature in the paws of that hairy sea brute.

All the time they seemed to be skating on fathomless depths of air, so blue the ice had become…

5) Man’s creative struggle, his search for wisdom and truth, is a love story. Man’s searchings and his strugglings are ambiguous and vowed to hidden ways. Those who live by that dark light will understand….That art gives charm to terrible things is perhaps its glory, perhaps its curse. Art is a doom.it has been the doom of Bradley Pearson….Art tells the only truth ultimately matters. It is the light by which things can be mended. And after art there is, let me assure you all, nothing.