These are a few books I've found important especially "The IMPORTANCE OF LIVING” by LIN U TANG a ZEN book

Silent spring ...Carol Carson

Brave New World.....A Huxley

Island.......A. Huxley

Stranger in a Strange Land.....Ayn Rand

 The IMPORTANCE  OF LIVING "by LIN U TANG

The Tribe That Lost Is Head.....

Earth  a FRENCH NOVEL19TH CENTURY LAND AND GREED....Emile Zola

Coming up for air..............George Orwell

1984...........George Orwell

Animal Farm...........George Orwell

Down And Out In London And Paris.........George Orwell

The Whole Earth Cataloge

The Ragged Trousered Philanthopists...Robert Tressell

The Hidden Persuaders....VancePackard

The Waste Makers.......VancePackard

The Isecure Offenders...T,R.Fyvel

Mien Kampf.....A Hitler

 

The Scourge Of The Swastika... B Russel

The Hobbit...J.R.R.Tolkien

The Human Zoo...Desmond Morris

The Naked Ape......Desmond Morris

Brighton Rock ...Graham Greene

Our Man In Havana....Graham Greene

Hard Rain Falling....Don Crpenter

Business In The Rain Forests ...C B Mackerrpn

Primitive Government ..Lucy Mair

The Scientific Analysis Of Personality.. R B Cattell

World Health... F Brockington

Archbold: Criminal Pleading, Evidence and Practice

 

                     COMING UP FOR AIR ...G .Orwell

 

 The idea really came to me the day I got my new false teeth.

 

I remember the morning well. At about a quarter to eight I’d nipped out of bed and got into the bathroom just in time to shut the kids out. It was a beastly January morning, with a dirty yellowish-grey sky. Down below, out of the little square of bathroom window, I could see

the ten yards by five of grass, with a privet hedge round it

and a bare patch in the middle, that we call the back garden. There’s the same back garden, same privets and same grass, behind every house in Ellesmere Road. Only difference—where there are no kids there’s no bare patch in the middle.

I was trying to shave with a bluntish razor-blade while the water ran

into the bath. My face looked back at me out of the mirror, and underneath, in a tumbler of water on the little shelf over the washbasin, the teeth that belonged in the face. It was the temporary set that Warner, my dentist, had given me to wear while the new ones were being made. I haven’t such a bad face, really. It’s one of those bricky-red faces that go with butter-coloured hair and pale-blue eyes. I’ve never gone grey or bald, thank God, and when I’ve got my teeth in I probably don’t look my age, which is forty-five.

Making a mental’note to buy razor-blades, I got into the bath and started soaping. I soaped my arms (I’ve got those kind of pudgy arms that are freckled,up to the elbow) and then took the back-bmsh and soaped my shoulder-blades, which in the ordinary way I can’t reach. It’s a nuisance, but

 

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