Henry Anderson
Goodreads Author
Born
The United Kingdom
Website
Genre
Member Since
October 2015
URL
https://www.goodreads.com/henry_anderson
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Henry Anderson
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This is part of the Hell Hare House Short Reads series, and I read ”The Island of No Return” in one enjoyable setting. Students trespass on a forbidden island off Venice that once served as a quarantine site for the plague and later as an asylum. They ...more |
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Henry Anderson
made a comment in the group
Goodreads Librarians Group
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Books incorrectly attributed to different author of the same name
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"
Hello librarians,
I wonder if anyone would be kind enough to move my recently published book to me. It has been listed under the wrong Henry Anderson. ...more " |
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Henry Anderson
made a comment in the group
Goodreads Librarians Group
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Book listed under wrong author
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"
Done. Thank you Xina!
Cape Misfortune III Rise of Krampus DONE " |
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Henry Anderson
rated a book it was amazing
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“The Guide says there is an art to flying", said Ford, "or rather a knack. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.”
― Life, the Universe and Everything
― Life, the Universe and Everything
“Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring barque,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”
― Great Sonnets
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring barque,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”
― Great Sonnets
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