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  1. THE BOARD ROOM

    1. Welcome to BGO!

      Find out more about Book Group Online, learn how to use the board and say hello!

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    2. Board Business

      The place for discussions about BGO and its operation. Suggestions welcome!

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    3. Site News & Support

      This forum is for general announcements and any tips or questions about the site.

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  2. GENERAL FICTION

    1. Central Library

      This is the place to discuss general book-related matters.

      32,431
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    2. 7,921
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    3. 4,326
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    4. 1,677
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    5. 5,014
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    6. Writers' Corner

      Whether you're a professional or budding writer or just write for fun, this is the place to discuss writing - whether it's fiction, non-fiction, comedy, journalism etc.

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  3. FICTION GENRES

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  4. NON-FICTION

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    2. 834
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    3. 276
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    4. 750
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    5. 193
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    6. Life, The Universe & Everything

      This forum covers humanity, nature and all forms of science.

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    9. 223
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  5. CHILDREN & YOUNG ADULTS

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    2. Read To

      Picture Books To Share

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    3. Read Alone

      For Independent Reading

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    4. Read With

      Learning Readers

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    5. Read On

      Teen/Adult Crossovers

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  6. BGO GROUP READS

    1. BGO Book Group Meeting Point

      Current talking points, suggestions and votes.

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    6. Crossing to Safety - Wallace Stegner

      The secong group read of 2014

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    7. Book Group Archive

      This is an archive of all the discussions from earlier book group choices.

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  7. ANYTHING BUT BOOKS

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  8. SUBSCRIBERS' AREA

    1. Subscribers' Offers

      Occasionally we are given special offers for promotional purposes. These offers are usually restricted to our Subscribers and posted here, with thanks for their support of the board.

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  • Posts

    • Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will: Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!   William Wordsworth - "Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3rd 1802"
    • Christmas: 1924 by Thomas Hardy

      'Peace upon earth!' was said. We sing it,
      And pay a million priests to bring it.
      After two thousand years of mass
      We've got as far as poison-gas. 
       
    •     HAMLET     If it assume my noble father's person,
      I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
      And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
      If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
      Let it be tenable in your silence still;
      And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
      Give it an understanding but no tongue.
      I will requite your loves. So, fare you well.
      Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
      I'll visit you.

      Shakespeare, Hamlet I/ii
    • All  IN  One Night - Stereophonics
    • Just 1/3 of In The Workhouse, Christmas Day - a heart-rending & melodramatic bit of Victorian social history, sadly only heard in the form if parodies nowadays   It is Christmas Day in the workhouse, 
      And the cold, bare walls are bright 
      With garlands of green and holly, 
      And the place is a pleasant sight; 
      For with clean-washed hands and faces, 
      In a long and hungry line 
      The paupers sit at the table, 
      For this is the hour they dine.    And the guardians and their ladies, 
      Although the wind is east, 
      Have come in their furs and wrappers, 
      To watch their charges feast; 
      To smile and be condescending, 
      Put pudding on pauper plates. 
      To be hosts at the workhouse banquet 
      They've paid for — with the rates.    Oh, the paupers are meek and lowly 
      With their "Thank'ee kindly, mum's!'"
      So long as they fill their stomachs, 
      What matter it whence it comes! 
      But one of the old men mutters, 
      And pushes his plate aside: 
      "Great God!" he cries, "but it chokes me! 
      For this is the day she died!"    The guardians gazed in horror, 
      The master's face went white; 
      "Did a pauper refuse the pudding?" 
      "Could their ears believe aright?" 
      Then the ladies clutched their husbands, 
      Thinking the man would die, 
      Struck by a bolt, or something, 
      By the outraged One on high.    But the pauper sat for a moment, 
      Then rose 'mid silence grim, 
      For the others had ceased to chatter 
      And trembled in every limb. 
      He looked at the guardians' ladies, 
      Then, eyeing their lords, he said, 
      "I eat not the food of villains 
      Whose hands are foul and red:    "Whose victims cry for vengeance 
      From their dark, unhallowed graves." 
      "He's drunk!" said the workhouse master, 
      "Or else he's mad and raves." 
      "Not drunk or mad," cried the pauper, 
      "But only a haunted beast, 
      Who, torn by the hounds and mangled, 
      Declines the vulture's feast.    "I care not a curse for the guardians, 
      And I won't be dragged away; 
      Just let me have the fit out, 
      It's only on Christmas Day 
      That the black past comes to goad me, 
      And prey on my burning brain; 
      I'll tell you the rest in a whisper — 
      I swear I won't shout again.    George R. Sims
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