Best 4184 quotes in «books quotes» category

I am sure you would not understand if I told you my father is delightfully clear and selfish, tender and lying, formal and incurable. He exhausts all the loves given to him. If I did not leave his house at night to warm myself in Rango's burning hands I would die at my task, arid and barren, sapless, while my father monologues about his past, and I yawn yawn yawn...

I am sorry, I am not a writer. I simply put my thoughts on paper. Those helped by them call them a book and me a writer. Those who are not helped call it rubbish and me a fool. Both have reason.

I am the collection of books I read.

I am what I have ever read

I am trying to sell beauty. Worst that you can do to me is not buy it!

I am yet to find one reliable friend in this crowd of shifting strangers. I have no true friends only mimicries, users and loopers. People popping in and out, keeping tabs on my life, not adding much credence to my existence yet not abandoning my life entirely because they know that greatness lies beyond the layers of this muck. It is up to me to discover those who are worth taking on this journey towards my destiny and the ones who will only get in my way.

I arrived in Bucksport Maine on the day of Maine Maritime Academy’s 2018 Graduation. Little wonder that all the hotel rooms for miles around were taken but I had lucked out again when I booked a room at the Spring Fountain Motel, just east from Bucksport, on the coastal route, U.S. Hwy 1. It had been a long day meeting, greeting and talking to owners of bookstores between here and Portland but I was happy at how successful my day was. Bucksport had not changed much from 60 years prior. I remembered how my friend and classmate Robert Kane, and I hitch-hiked through here in 1953. Add it up and you’ll see that a lot of water has flowed under the Verona Island Bridge that dominates the landscape but the town of Bucksport has steadfastly refused to change. Read on from page 376 in “Seawater One – Going to Sea” or pages 121 in “Salty & Saucy Maine –Sea Stories from Castine” and now yet another class of midshipmen have graduated! Talking to the new Innkeeper of the Spring Fountain Motel, I found that he had been a professional soccer player in South Africa and had recently lived in New York City. An interesting young man, originally for Pakistan he was working hard to live the American Dream! When I told him my story he didn’t hesitate to order a dozen copies of my books. Displaying the popular “Salty & Saucy Maine” near his cash register is just the latest way my book will become available to the summer tourists. In Bucksport it is also available at Andy Larcher’s cozy bookstore “Book Stacks” and is also at the local library which has all of my books on its shelves. “Salty & Saucy Maine!” Is catching on as a bestselling book in Maine!

I asked my mother why we couldn’t have books and she said, ‘The trouble with a book is that you never know what’s in it until it’s too late.' I thought to myself, 'Too late for what?

I applied mine heart to know, and to search, and to seek out wisdom, And the reason of things, And to know the wickedness of folly, even of foolishness and madness: And I find more bitter than death, the woman, whose heart is snares and nets, and her hands as bands-

Avec tout ce que je sais, on pourrait faire un livre... il est vrai qu'avec tout ce que je ne sais pas, on pourrait faire une bibliothèque. With everything I know, I could create a book... and with everything I know not, I could create a library.

I asked her what a true story was because I thought that all stories were made up. She said a true story was called fact, and a made-up story was called ficton. Auntie May said a made-up story is a bit like telling lies, only the people who read them knew that already and so it didn’t matter

I asked of the limitless sunshine How to shine with the dawn's glowing light; No answer came back from the sunshine, But my soul heard a whisper, "Burn bright!

I began my life as I shall no doubt end it: among books. In my grandfather's study, they were everywhere; it was forbidden to dust them except once a year, before the October term. Even before I could read, I already revered these raised stones; upright or leaning, wedged together like bricks on the library shelves or nobly placed like avenues of dolmens, I felt that our family prosperity depended on them. They were all alike, and I was romping about in a tiny sanctuary, surrounded by squat, ancient monuments which had witnessed my birth, which would witness my death and whose permanence guaranteed me a future as calm as my past. I used to touch them in secret to honour my hands with their dust but I did not have much idea what to do with them and each day I was present at ceremonies whose meaning escaped me: my grandfather - so clumy, normally, that my grandmother buttoned his gloves for him - handled these cultural objects with the dexterity of an officiating priest. Hundreds of times I saw him get up absent-mindedly, walk round the table, cross the room in two strides, unhesitatingly pick out a volume without allowing himself time for choice, run through it as he went back to his armchair, with a combined movement of his thumb and right forefinger, and, almost before he sat down, open it with a flick "at the right page," making it creak like a shoe. I sometimes got close enough to observe these boxes which opened like oysters and I discovered the nakedness of their internal organs, pale, dank, slightly blistering pages, covered with small black veins, which drank ink and smelt of mildew.

I believe in books.

I began to write because of love. I wrote to understand what I felt and what I knew.

I believe war should be the last result, but I do believe that when we find ourselves at war, we should unite as a people and not do anything to aid or encourage the enemy. We should stay the course and remember that the people we are defending, though they may not always be Americans, are people dependent upon us to see the conflict through to an end.

I believe that we should only read those books that bite and sting us. If a book does not rouse us with a blow then why read it?

I believe we do well to fall asleep each night with books. We enter the library of our dreams in good company then.

I believe that life is all about perception and timing. That good things come to those who act and that life’s about more than collecting a paycheck. I believe that the only person you’re destined to become is the one that you decide to be. That if you try hard enough you can convince yourself of anything. That having patience doesn’t make you a hero nor does it make you a doormat. I believe that not showing love proves you’re weak and belittling others doesn’t make you strong. That you are never as far away from people as the miles may suggest. That life’s too short to read awful books, listen to terrible music, or be around uninspiring people. I believe that where you start has little impact on where you finish. That sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away. That you can never be overdressed or overeducated. I believe that the cure for anything is salt water; sweat, tears, or the sea. That you should never let your memories be greater than your dreams. And that you should always choose adventure.

I build my world with the pages of a book.

I beseech thee, O Lord, let me have understanding: For it was not my mind to be curious of the high things, but of such as pass by us daily.

I bleed in my reality that our story was never a story, just a figment of my imagination, I know forgetting him is what I have to do.

I buy, collect and read books.

I CALL on world believers of righteousness to wage 'all-out war' on the World Government, the infidels...

I blast out the ghastly contents of philosophically whited sepulchers and laugh with sardonic wrath! Compton

I born & rised in the Mahabharat Family (states) country Republic of Bangladesh which is also under British Commonwealth royal throne and in the China Belt-Road regions. So it is very influencing of my writing due the Great Bharat history, culture, society and practice of life & livelihood together .

I came to pen another poem for you, but even every unwritten poem is you.

I can lend you my money not my books.

I can admire, but I no longer covet. Books of course are another matter; books are not acquisitions, they are necessities.

I can escape to the blissful realms between the pages of books.

I can FEEL her next to me. This UNION. Of WARMTH. Of CARING. Of the INDESCRIBABLE. As if there were NO PARTING and NEVER could be.

I can arrange words on a page but I can't seem to organize books on a shelf. Over the years, My Secret has shelved thousands and thousands, held each one in his hands. He thinks they might have seeped into him, through his skin, as much as the books he's read. At night and on his days off we spend hours talking about writing. He reads three or four books at a time. When he's not working at the bookstore he goes to other bookstores around the city and browses until closing time. Holding more volumes in his hands, filling himself up with words.

I cannot explain love. I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But I remember the first moment I looked at you walking toward me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you. That you were the center of everything I did and felt and thought.

I cannot live without books because books are my life.

I cannot perceive that you're still a girl. Ur kisses don't seem so innocent. They just drive me crazy!" #MilanoVeneziani. #ItalianPassion

I cannot live without reading.

I cannot remember a time when I was not in love with them--with the books themselves, cover and binding and the paper they were printed on, with their smell and their weight and with their possession in my arms, captured and carried off to myself.” ― Eudora Welty

I can promise you books and conversation and all my heart.

I can not imagine a world without books. My world will not be complete with the love for books.

I can't imagine it's easy to like someone, hate them, and then lose them before any of those feelings are resolved.

I can’t live without books, music and wonder.

I certainly couldn't have survived my childhood without books. All that deprivation and pain--abuse, broken home, a runaway sister, a brother with cancer--the books allowed me to withstand. They sustained me. I read still, prolifically, with great passion, but never like I read in those days: in those days it was life or death.

I can understand now why people read, why they like to get lost in somebody else's life. Sometimes I'll read a sentence and it will make me sit up, jolt me, because it is something that I have recently felt but never said out loud. I want to reach in to the page and tell the characters that I understand them, that they're not alone, that I'm not alone, that it's okay to feel like this.

I care not how humble your bookshelf may be, or how lonely the room which it adorns. Close the door of that room behind you, shut off with it all the cares of the outer world, plunge back into the soothing company of the great dead, and then you are through the magic portal into that fair land whither worry and vexation can follow you no more. You have left all that is vulgar and all that is sordid behind you. There stand your noble, silent comrades, waiting in their ranks. Pass your eye down their files. Choose your man. And then you have but to hold up your hand to him and away you go together into dreamland

Ich las das langweilige Buch, schlief darüber ein, im Schlafe träumte ich, weiter zu lesen, erwachte vor Langeweile, und das dreimal.

I come not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.

I can't stand snobs with impeccable taste. These people say: "I'd rather a good book than a shallow person". They could cry over the plight of a fictitious character but they shamelessly insult real people because real people are "shallow" and according to snobs these "shallow people" don't deserve to live.

I collected speech from so called "Smart", "Genius" nation... the judge is going to be made from you... ... Don't worry "Notes of A Dead Man Sequel" are going to be one damn long journey.

I collect new books the way my friends collect designer handbags. Sometimes, I just like to know I have them and actually reading them is beside the point. Not that I don't eventually end up reading them. I do. But the mere act of buying them makes me happy.

I couldn’t comprehend why she still hadn’t stopped him because it’s clearly every mother’s responsibility to protect her children. After all, that’s the trust that bonds a mother and her child together, forever