I used to think of myself as a good soldier when it came to sticking it out with a book, even if became dull in spots. I would push through, skim a bit if it got too rough, and often enough I was rewarded for my efforts with a solid ending. But the older I get, the less patience I have with a book that is lacking in captivation (or even worse, in quality storytelling or writing) and I have become comfortable with putting down a book that has lost me within the first 100 pages (my designated "do or die" line in the sand). 

And yet, I feel ashamed for quitting on some books, great pieces of literature that have been impactful and important, but sometimes I just can’t keep the ship afloat and it becomes time to scramble for an exit and a sturdy inflatable raft. Here are five classic novels that I wish I finished, that I may yet finish one day, but for now I am ashamed that I quit halfway through.