A truth universally acknowledged.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Charles Dickens was a somewhat boring old twat.

A fact clearly reflected by his work.

His ability to draw attention to social injustice was and still is, remarkable. However, having read many of his books, I can honestly tell you that reading his work always made me feel as though I was suffering a great social injustice myself.
Ghastly stuff.

No way was the beginning of A Tale of Two Cities the best opening sentence ever written.
No way.
Perhaps the people who judged it to be so, realised at a glance that it was going to be an appallingly dreary and harrowing read and only got one sentence into it before craftily pulling up stumps and reviewing it.
Fair enough too.
But they don't fool me.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
Fuck off.

No.

To Jane and Jane alone must go the glory.

Start as you mean to continue. I’ve always liked that idea.

Immediately declare to your reader what you're thinking. Thus giving them an opportunity to read on or close to book without wasting their time.
I hereby thank each and every author who has had enough respect for me to do this.

So many notable exceptions, aren't there?

For me to pick up a book and discover the author seemingly in mid-thought, I feel as though they're sharing their story with me rather than selling it to me.

So, here is my very favourite first sentence, courtesy of Jane Austen, taken from Pride and Prejudice.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a young man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."

There. That's how you do it.
Just fucking say something. Don't just dribble on and torture people.

After something as good as that of course, the risk of coughing up a second sentence that leaves the first swinging in the breeze is very real.

But no. Not Jane. She had the balls to back it up to the hilt.

"However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters."

Damn her. Now I have to read the book again.
Oh well, I'm a quarter of the way through the first page now anyway.

But then, my second favourite first sentence comes from something and someone completely different.

It comes from an "unauthorised autobiography" by Chuck Barris, called "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind", written the best part of 200 years later.

Chuck Barris of course, being best known for creating and producing some really awful television in the 50's and 60's like The Dating Game, The Newlyweds Game and even The Gong Show in the 70's.
Yikes.
I found him interesting because in addition to all this, he claims to have worked undercover as a CIA assassin during all these years. :O)
I don't even care if that's true. I just think it's a cool thing to say.

And if you've seen the movie, please don't assume that the book was anything like it. The movie was dreadful in the extreme.
Pretty much like Chuck's TV shows, so I guess that's somehow right and fitting.

But, it's not even the first sentence of this book I found so enchanting. It's the entire first page. Maybe even a couple of lines of the second page too.

He opens on his 50th birthday as he stands in front of the mirror and describes the appearance of his naked body to the reader.

I cannot actually locate my copy of the book, so I’ll just let you know that he doesn’t miss an inch, but that he probably should have.
And that at some point he compares his penis to a rasher of bacon and mentions that despite his best efforts, “the fucker is still dripping piss on the rug.”

I read that maybe 3 or 4 times before I could move on to the rest of the book.
I also went back and read it many more times before I made it anywhere near the end.

A rasher of bacon. Isn’t that terrific?
It's certainly better than not enough porridge, anyway.