1. Nothing could be nicer than his room, or more pleasant than
the table and seat which he was to occupy near a window; but
there was something in the tone of the other men towards him
which did not quite satisfy him. They probably did not know that
he was a fellow of a college, and treated him almost as they
might have done had he come to them direct from King's College,
in the Strand, or from the London University.

From Trollope's "The Claverings". Misidentifications included
"Room at the top" (John Braine). "The way of all flesh" (Samuel
Butler) and "Dance to the music of time" (Anthony Powell). The
hint was enough to suggest Trollope to some, but it wasn't "Dr
Wortle's School", "Is he Popenjoy?", or even "Phineas Finn". One
person eventually got it.

2. Don't like the French: their manners don't suit us, nor their
ideas.

Not by Norman Tebbit, nor indeed Mark Twain. It's actually from
Britten's Opera "Billy Budd" so E.M. Forster and Eric Crozier are
responsible (after Herman Melville). Only one person identified this.
Once given that it was an opera, people provided suggestions of
Ruddigore, Utopia Limited, Ivanhoe, The Beggar's Opera, The
Rake's Progress and The Turn of the Screw (close!). The opera is
set in the Napoleonic wars.

3. ... if by any chance Bracton would not sell, the whole scheme
miscarried and the Institute would undoubtedly go to Cambridge.
It was even drawn out of the Bursar by much questioning that he
knew of a Cambridge college very anxious to sell.

Nothing to do with Professor Sir Michael Atiyah, but in fact from
C.S. Lewis's "That hideous strength". NOT "The lion, the witch and 
the wardrobe", or even "Out of the silent planet".

4. My baron-baillie and doer, Mr Duncan Macwheeble, is the fourth
of our list. There is a question, owing to the incertitude of
ancient orthography, whether he belongs to the clan of Wheedle or
of Quibble, but both have produced persons eminent in the law.

From Sir Walter Scott's Waverley", perhaps the most famous
Scottish novel of all. Curiously there were no wrong guesses.

5. Hide, Jonathan, all thy friendly manner.

From Chaucer's "Legend of good women" with spelling modernized as
it was in the anthology where I found it. One person got it and some 
others suggested the Bible, Milton, Byron and Blake.

6. In the year eighteen hundred and forty-four the fact of a
man's not shaving was regarded by the enlightened majority of the
English nation as a proof of unsoundness of intellect. At the
present time Mr. Treverton's beard would only have interfered
with his reputation for respectability. Seventeen years ago, it
was accepted as so much additional evidence in support of the old
theory that his intellects were deranged. He was at that very
time, as his stockbroker could have testified, one of the
sharpest men of business in London; he could argue on the wrong
side of any question with an acuteness of sophistry and sarcasm
that Dr. Johnson might himself have envied; he kept his household
accounts right to a farthing; but what did these advantages avail
him in the estimation of his neighbours when he presumed to live
on another plan than theirs, and when he wore a hairy certificate
of lunacy on his face?

From Wilkie Collins' "The dead secret", though it was also
mistaken for Trollope, Dickens, and Collins' "No name". One person 
got it by the expedient of looking up the name Treverton in a
suitable reference work.

7. Who asked you to the funeral anyway? Were you acquainted with
the late parrot?

This one, from Evelyn Waugh's "The loved one", beat everyone.
Surely it's the only famous novel about pets and funerals? Some
suggested "Flaubert's Parrot" (Julian Barnes).

8. The seductions of his fame had grown so great that several of
these young ladies asked him if he would keep the Ganesh-mask on
while they made love, but he refused out of respect for the
dignity of the god.

From "The Satanic verses", by Salman Rushdie. Not by Howell and
Ford. Spotted at once by two people, and later by others.

9. Poets do not go mad; but chess-players do. Mathematicians go
mad, and cashiers; but creative artists very seldom.

This rather dubious generalization is actually from G.K.
Chesterton's "Orthodoxy", though it was variously identified as
Hardy ("A mathematician's apology"), Littlewood, Russell and
Chekhov. Nobody got it first time: several got it by elimination.

10. His professorship was an obscure one, to say the least, and
since he dispensed with his lecturing duties by the simple and
time-honoured technique of presenting all his potential students
with an exhaustive list of books that he knew for a fact had been
out of print for thirty years, then flying into a tantrum if they
failed to find them, no one had ever discovered the precise
nature of his academic discipline.

From Douglas Adams' "Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency".
Numerous people got it immediately. It might have been Lodge, 
Bradbury, Amis (Lucky Jim), Sharpe (Porterhouse Blue), Jeffrey 
Archer, Clive James or Stephen Fry, but wasn't.