No Man s Island

No Man s Island
Author: Susan Sallis
Publsiher: Random House
Total Pages: 468
Release: 2011-07-31
Genre: Fiction
ISBN: 9781446486658

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A magical and emotionally powerful novel from the Sunday Times bestselling author Susan Sallis, perfect for fans of Maeve Binchy, Fiona Valpy and Rosamunde Pilcher. READERS ARE LOVING NO MAN'S ISLAND, THE SUNDAY TIMES BESTSELLER! "This is my first Susan Sallis book and it certainly won't be my last." - 5 STARS "Couldn't put it down." - 5 STARS "I loved the way the story had a twist at the end. Great book." - 5 STARS ********************* ON A WILD AND WINDSWEPT ISLAND, THE SECRETS OF THE PAST UNRAVEL... When she hears the news of the death of her ex-husband, Binnie feels like her tranquil life in the West Country is over. To her surprise, she discovers that he has left her the island in the beautiful archipelago off the coast of Cornwall and the dilapidated house where he spent his childhood, and Binnie has to take her family to the island - revisiting it for the first time in years - and work out what to do. As she becomes involved in the life of the island, and its inhabitants, she has to embark upon a whole new life and discovers many things about her husband - and her own past - that will change everything forever...

No Man is an Island

No Man is an Island
Author: Thomas Merton
Publsiher: Shambhala Publications
Total Pages: 306
Release: 2005
Genre: Body, Mind & Spirit
ISBN: 9781590302538

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This volume is a stimulating series of spiritual reflections which will prove helpful for all struggling to find the meaning of human existence and to live the richest, fullest and noblest life. --Chicago Tribune

No Man s Land

No Man s Land
Author: David Baldacci
Publsiher: Grand Central Publishing
Total Pages: 432
Release: 2016-11-15
Genre: Fiction
ISBN: 9781455586493

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After his father is accused of murder, combat veteran and Special Agent John Puller must investigate his past and learn the truth about his mother in this New York Times bestselling thriller--but someone hiding in the shadows wants revenge. Two men. Thirty years. John Puller's mother, Jackie, vanished thirty years ago from Fort Monroe, Virginia, when Puller was just a boy. Paul Rogers has been in prison for ten years. But twenty years before that, he was at Fort Monroe. One night three decades ago, Puller's and Rogers' worlds collided with devastating results, and the truth has been buried ever since. Until now. Military investigators, armed with a letter from a friend of Jackie's, arrive in the hospital room of Puller's father-a legendary three-star now sinking into dementia-and reveal that Puller Sr. has been accused of murdering his wife. Aided by his brother Robert Puller, an Air Force major, and Veronica Knox, who works for a shadowy U.S. intelligence organization, Puller begins a journey that will take him into his own past, to find the truth about his mother. Paul Rogers' time is running out. With the clock ticking, he begins his own journey, one that will take him across the country to the place where all his troubles began: a mysterious building on the grounds of Fort Monroe. There, thirty years ago, the man Rogers had once been vanished too, and was replaced with a monster. And now the monster wants revenge. And the only person standing in his way is John Puller.

No Mans Island

No Mans Island
Author: Herbert Strang
Publsiher: BEYOND BOOKS HUB
Total Pages: 187
Release: 2023-08-24
Genre: Fiction
ISBN: 9182736450XXX

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It was Saturday afternoon. The spacious lawn in front of Mr. Crawshay’s house was spread with bamboo tables and deck-chairs. At the porch stood Mr. Crawshay and Mr. Ambrose Pratt side by side, smoking long cigars, chatting and laughing with the familiarity of old friends. Mr. Pratt’s right arm was in a sling. “It’s time they came,” said Mr. Crawshay, taking out his watch. He wore a large panama, and his suit of spotless ducks gave him a festal air. “They’re probably squabbling for precedence,” said Mr. Pratt; “not on social grounds, but for modesty. It’s an ordeal, you know, Crawshay; and when they see your rig, and that purple tie of yours, they’ll be abashed.” “What’ll they say to the women, then?” returned Mr. Crawshay. “Upon my soul, Pratt, I think you are right to come in your old clothes; they’ll feel more at home. It never occurred to me.” “Oh, well, you’re lord of the manor; I dare say you’re right to look the part. But here they come, in a bunch. Mrs. Rogers is, perhaps, a shade ahead.” Mr. Crawshay turned and called through the open door. His daughter, in a dainty confection of muslin and lace, and a straw hat trimmed with pink silk, came running out, followed by her mother, an impressive figure in blue, and our three campers, in flannels and blazers. Armstrong also had an arm in a sling. Grouped in front of the porch they awaited the coming of the party that had just entered the drive. Mrs. Rogers, in stiff black silk, and a wonderful bonnet, marched along a little in advance of her husband, hardly recognisable in his Sunday suit of blue serge and a bowler hat sitting uneasily on the back of his head. Samuel Blevins, the general dealer, had affected a long frock coat and a tall hat. Henery Drew, magnificent in a brown bowler and a suit of large-checked tweed, walked beside Hardstone, the constable, disguised in habiliments that might have become a prosperous plumber. The rest of the company, whose names we do not know, were alike in one respect; all had donned their “Sunday best.” Every face, without exception, wore an air of deep solemnity. Mr. Crawshay took a step forward. “Glad to see you, neighbours,” he said, genially. “We are lucky in a fine afternoon.” He shook hands with them individually, a greeting that inflicted on them various degrees of embarrassment, deepened by the smiling welcome of his wife and daughter. Mr. Pratt contented himself with a general salutation; it was not until the boys began to crack jokes with them that the prevailing gloom lightened. “You didn’t bring your sister, Rogers?” said Mr. Crawshay to the innkeeper. “True, sir; she bain’t come along.” “She couldn’t face ‘ee, sir,” added Mrs. Rogers. “I always did say as she was making a rod for her back, though never did I think Rod was such a downright wicked feller. And Henery Drew, as would have made her a good husband as far as husbands do go, and now he can’t marry her without committing bigamy.” “Well, well! We must hope for the best,” said Mr. Crawshay. “Now, my friends, we’re all here. Take your seats, and we’ll have tea.” The company seated themselves. Maids brought from the house trays filled with good things. Mrs. Crawshay poured out tea, and Lilian and the boys carried round the eatables. Under the influence of good cheer the villagers’ stiffness wore off, and they began to descant upon the moving events of the past days. For the first time in its history the village had become a place of importance. Visitors had flocked to it from all parts; journalists with cameras had interviewed the actors in the drama, and expressed themselves very freely on Mr. Pratt’s refusal to admit them to his grounds, and to pose for his photograph. His modesty in this respect was a standing puzzle to his humble neighbours. Mrs. Rogers, for instance, was extremely proud of the portrait of her husband that had appeared in the previous day’s picture paper. “The scar shows beautiful,” she said, complacently. “Dear me,” said Mrs. Crawshay, with a discreet glance at Rogers’s broad face, “I wasn’t aware––” “Take off your hat, Joe, and show the lady.” Removing his hat, Rogers displayed a red furrow that ran across his shiny pate. “What a narrow escape!” exclaimed Mrs. Crawshay. “Ay sure, ma’am, ‘twas so,” said Mrs. Rogers. “And I’m certain a widow’s cap wouldn’t have suited me.” “Well, Mrs. Rogers, you won’t be so particular about Joe’s wig after this,” said Percy Pratt. “You see, if he’d worn his wig, his scalp wouldn’t have been touched; think what millions of people have had the pleasure of admiring your husband, talking about his bravery, discussing the track of the bullet across his skull. No one wanted to take my photograph.” “They took ‘ee unbeknownst, then, becos there you be, next to Joe, with ‘Pepper and Salt’ printed underneath; very clever, I call it, Joe being once a sailor.” “Oh, I say,” exclaimed Pratt, “did they get the others too?” “No, sir. Not as I think it a very good likeness. You’ve got your two eyes half shut, and your mouth is a very queer shape, like as if you was expecting of somebody to pop something in it–a drop of physic, maybe.” The villagers looked merely interested, the others frankly amused. Pratt blushed. “He must have caught you when you were singing a particularly sentimental song, old chap,” said Warrender, smiling. “That reminds me,” said Mrs. Crawshay. “Do bring out your banjo, Mr. Pratt, and sing us something.” “Wait a minute,” said Mr. Crawshay. “Before we begin the–entertainment, shall I call it?–I want to say a word or two.” “Hear, hear!” exclaimed Blevins. “‘Tis what I call an event.” “No heroics, for goodness’ sake, Crawshay,” murmured Mr. Pratt. Mr. Crawshay assumed the look of one determined not to be interfered with. “I just want to say, neighbours,” he proceeded, “how glad I am to see you all here this afternoon, in celebration of what Mr. Blevins rightly calls an event in the simple history of our little parish. You all had a part in the frustration of the most nefarious criminal conspiracy that has ever come within my long experience as a county magistrate. Thanks to the ingenuity and perseverance of my dear young friends, their refusal to be intimidated, their sleepless vigils and untiring watchfulness, the secrets of that criminal conspiracy were laid bare, my old friend and neighbour was rescued from a most distressing situation, and you, anticipating the slow operation of the law, but sanctioned by the presence among you of an officer of the law, were able to secure the apprehension of the whole band of criminals, who are now awaiting in the darkness of the county gaol the due reward of their deeds. Our village is to be congratulated on the visit of three young men, typical products of our renowned public school system, and on the public spirit of its own inhabitants, who, when the call for action came, forgetting all class distinctions, regardless of personal risk, braved the murderous weapons of unscrupulous villains, and nobly carried out the first duty of the patriotic citizen. I am speaking the mind of you all,” the worthy magistrate went on, warming to his subject, “when I say that we shall long treasure the memory of our young friends, their high spirits, their unfailing cheerfulness under persecution, their courage and ingenuity; and it is a matter of regret that, yielding to paramount claims, the claims of parental affection, they are leaving us to-day. But it will please you all to hear that, in response to my invitation–I may say to my insistence–they have agreed to visit us again next year; and I understand from my old friend and neighbour, Mr. Pratt, that he intends to acquire No Man’s Island, so long derelict, and restore the cottage as a holiday hostel for boys of our public schools.” Here there were general cheers. “Dear old Father!” whispered Lilian to the boys. “He gets so few chances of making a speech, and he does love it so.” “I won’t detain you longer,” Mr. Crawshay went on. “No doubt Mr. Pratt would like to say a few words.” “Hate it!” exclaimed Mr. Pratt. “One thing only. I’ve had a bad time. I deserved it. I was over-hasty. My old servants are scattered; if any of you know where they are, tell them to come to me. I’ll reinstate them–if we can agree about wages.” Under cover of the villagers’ applause, Percy seized the opportunity of unbosoming himself to a select audience, his companions and Lilian Crawshay. “Are we blushing, Miss Crawshay?” he asked. “I don’t think we are, because, you see, we are supremely conscious of each other’s merits. We really are benefactors, you know–public and private. Who would ever believe that the two old gentlemen were not long ago calling each other luna––” “Now, Mr. Pratt,” the girl interrupted. “Well, X and Y then,” rejoined Pratt. “It’s undeniable, isn’t it, that they’re reconciled through us? And as for my uncle and me, we’re quite pally; the old feud is healed, and before long I expect my father and Uncle Ambrose will kiss again with tears. Tennyson, you know. Anyway, it’s been a ripping holiday, and––” “Now, Mr. Pratt, we are all waiting,” said Mrs. Crawshay, amiably. Pratt obediently went into the house, brought out his banjo, and trolled out ditties of the most sentimental order. Presently Warrender announced that it was time to go if they meant to reach Southampton before dark. The whole company trooped down to the bank with them, and watched them board the motor-boat, already loaded with their camp equipment. Last good-byes were said; Warrender opened the throttle; and as the boat panted down stream there came to the ears of the silent spectators the gentle strumming of the banjo, and Pratt’s melodious tenor...FROM THE BOOKS.

No Man s Island

No Man s Island
Author: J. Allan Dunn
Publsiher: Fiction Hunter Press
Total Pages: 6
Release: 2015-06-17
Genre: Hurricane Ike, 2008
ISBN: 9182736450XXX

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After losing his ship to German raiders in the final days of World War I, Tom Hooper enlists the aid of master diver Sam Manning to retrieve his precious cargo: a fortune in pearls! Retrieving the pearls will prove a perilous task, pitting Hopper and Manning against rogue German sailors, cannibals, and mutinous crewmen out to steal their fortune! J. Allan Dunn has crafted the type of classic adventure tale the pulps were known for.

No Man is an Island

No Man is an Island
Author: John Donne
Publsiher: Unknown
Total Pages: 70
Release: 1970
Genre: Electronic Book
ISBN: PSU:000054369993

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No Man s Land

No Man s Land
Author: Kevin Major
Publsiher: Anchor Canada
Total Pages: 251
Release: 2001
Genre: Beaumont Hamel, Battle of, France, 1916
ISBN: 9780385658867

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Set in France during World War l, No Man's Land pulls us into the lives of the young men of the Newfoundland Regiment as they prepare to set out for the trenches and what will come to be known as the Battle of the Somme. A classic war novel, the book is equally effective in its portrayal of the camaraderie and unnatural quiet before the storm, as in its graphic acccount of the fight to make it through the barbed wire and sweep of machine-gun bullets. Two hundred and seventy-two Newfoundlanders who went over the top on July 1, 1916 were killed. No regiment suffered more casualties. It was the single greatest disaster in the island's history.

No Man an Island

No Man an Island
Author: James Udden
Publsiher: Hong Kong University Press
Total Pages: 263
Release: 2017-11-21
Genre: Performing Arts
ISBN: 9789888139224

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Taiwan is a peculiar place resulting in a peculiar cinema, with Hou Hsiao-hsien being its most remarkable product. Hou’s signature long and static shots almost invite critics to give auteurist readings of his films, often privileging the analysis of cinematic techniques at the expense of the context from which Hou emerges. In this pioneering study, James Udden argues instead that the Taiwanese experience is the key to understanding Hou’s art. The convoluted history of Taiwan in the last century has often rendered fixed social and political categories irrelevant. Changing circumstances have forced the people in Taiwan to be hyperaware of how imaginary identity—above all national identity—is. Hou translates this larger state of affairs in such masterpieces as City of Sadness, The Puppetmaster, and Flowers of Shanghai, which capture and perhaps even embody the elusive, slippery contours of the collective experience of the islanders. Making extensive uses of Chinese sources from Taiwan, the author shows how important the local matters for this globally recognized director. In this new edition of No Man an Island, James Udden charts a new chapter in the evolving art of Hou Hsiao-hsien, whose latest film, The Assassin, earned him the Best Director Award at the Cannes Film Festival in 2015. Hou breaks new ground in turning the classic wuxia genre into a vehicle to express his unique insight into the working of history. The unconventional approach to conventions is quintessential Hou Hsiao-hsien. “An excellent and groundbreaking volume. This book’s very precise analyses of the films as well as their context make it the primary source for any scholar working on Hou in English.” —Chris Berry, King’s College London “In this first book-length study on Hou Hsiao-hsien James Udden illuminates the most intriguing yet mystifying filmmaker in world cinema. No Man an Island is without doubt a major contribution to the fields of Chinese-language cinema and film studies.” —Emilie Yueh-yu Yeh, Lingnan University, Hong Kong