هذا القسم يحتوي علي العديد من القصص والروايات باللغة الإنجليزية

(Stories and novels) القصص والروايات
الرواية هي سرد نثري طويل يصف شخصيات خيالية أو واقعية وأحداثاً على شكل قصة متسلسلة، كما أنها أكبر الأجناس القصصية من حيث الحجم وتعدد الشخصيات وتنوع الأحداث، وقد ظهرت في أوروبا بوصفها جنساً أدبياً مؤثراً في القرن الثامن عشر، والرواية حكاية تعتمد السرد بما فيه من وصف وحوار وصراع بين الشخصيات وما ينطوي عليه ذلك من تأزم وجدل وتغذيه الأحداث
A novel is a relatively long work of narrative fiction, normally written in prose form, and which is typically published as a book. The present English word for a long work of prose fiction derives from the Italian novella for "new", "news", or "short story of something new", itself from the Latin novella, a singular noun use of the neuter plural of novellus, diminutive of novus, meaning "new". Walter Scott made a distinction between the novel, in which (as he saw it) "events are accommodated to the ordinary train of human events and the modern state of society" and the romance, which he defined as "a fictitious narrative in prose or verse; the interest of which turns upon marvellous and uncommon incidents". However, many such romances, including the historical romances of Scott, Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights and Herman Melville's Moby-Dick, are also frequently called novels, and Scott describes romance as a "kindred term". This sort of romance is in turn different from the genre fiction love romance or romance novel
A short story is a piece of prose fiction that typically can be read in one sitting and focuses on a self-contained incident or series of linked incidents, with the intent of evoking a "single effect" or mood.

A dictionary definition is "an invented prose narrative shorter than a novel usually dealing with a few characters and aiming at unity of effect and often concentrating on the creation of mood rather than plot."

The short story is a crafted form in its own right. Short stories make use of plot, resonance, and other dynamic components as in a novel, but typically to a lesser degree. While the short story is largely distinct from the novel or novella (a shorter novel), authors generally draw from a common pool of literary techniques.

The Golden Compass    

Lyra and her dæmon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to
keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen. The three great tables that
ran the length of the hall were laid already, the silver and the glass
catching what little light there was, and the long benches were pulled
out ready for the guests. Portraits of former Masters hung high up in the
gloom along the walls. Lyra reached the dais and looked back at the
open kitchen door, and, seeing no one, stepped up beside the high table. The places here
were laid with gold, not silver, and the fourteen seats were not oak benches but
mahogany chairs with velvet cushions.
Lyra stopped beside the Master’s chair and flicked the biggest glass gently with a
fingernail. The sound rang clearly through the hall.
“You’re not taking this seriously,” whispered her dæmon. “Behave yourself.”
Her dæmon’s name was Pantalaimon, and he was currently in the form of a moth, a
dark brown one so as not to show up in the darkness of the hall.
“They’re making too much noise to hear from the kitchen,” Lyra whispered back. “And
the Steward doesn’t come in till the first bell. Stop fussing.”
But she put her palm over the ringing crystal anyway, and Pantalaimon fluttered
ahead and through the slightly open door of the Retiring Room at the other end of the
dais. After a moment he appeared again.
“There’s no one there,” he whispered. “But we must be quick.”
Crouching behind the high table, Lyra darted along and through the door into the
Retiring Room, where she stood up and looked around. The only light in here came from
the fireplace, where a bright blaze of logs settled slightly as she looked, sending a
fountain of sparks up into the chimney. She had lived most of her life in the College, but
had never seen the Retiring Room before: only Scholars and their guests were allowed in
here, and never females. Even the maidservants didn’t clean in here. That was the
Butler’s job alone.

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