Best 4184 quotes in «books quotes» category

Als ik een boek les, dan plaats ik de scènes die zich binnen een huisakmer afspelen altijd in een voor mij bekende huisakmer. Hoe goed de schrijver de ruimte ook beschrijft, wat er in de kast staat en waar de keuken is en hoe de klok tikt, het wordt een variatie op een kamer die ik zelf van binnen ken. De huiskamer die ik in boeken zag, was altijd die van mijn ouders, de huiskamer waar ik in opgroeide. Daar vond Hersenschimmen van Bernlef plaats, daar zag ik een kleine Martin Bril lopen wanneer hij het over zijn jeugd had. De huiskamer die ik zie in de boeken die ik nu lees, is in Utrecht. Misschien is dat alles wat thuis zijn is.

Although my road to writing seems like it may have come easily, there were a few bumps in that road. I didn’t get a lot of encouragement from friends, although my family were great supporters. I also had many…what you would call “mind-boggling” moments, when I would doubt myself and what I was writing. It has been said that we, ourselves, are our own worst critics. All the hard work had payed off though, and I created a children’s book that I am proud of, and an unforgettable little girl that will touch the hearts of many.”-Nina Jean Slack

Although all days are equally long regardless of the season, some days are long not only seasonally but by rewards they offer.

Although he never speaks of how or what or why, I know that his childhood was difficult, that his parents broke his heart. Books and excess poundage are his insulation against pain.

Although I was so big, and so rough in many ways, loved hunting, fighting, horseback riding, I loved the piano above everything else...The mountain man's obsession is to get a glimpse of the sea.

Altogether, if I had to pick one place to hang out anywhere, from New York to Cape Town and Australia to Hong Kong, a bookstore would be it.

Always buy pornographic books in hardback because they're easier to hold with one hand.

Always choose the adventure ... unless, it's chilly outside and there's a cup of warm coffee resting near a book and comfy sofa.

Always maintain a steady eye on what you know is yours for the taking, and plot with all the energy you can muster to reach it.

A man can be rich as long as he reads.

A man, any man, will go considerably out of his way to pick up a silver dollar; but here are golden words, which the wisest men of antiquity have uttered, and whose worth the wise of every succeeding age have assured us of; — and yet we learn to read only as far as Easy Reading, the primers and class-books, and when we leave school, the "Little Reading," and story-books, which are for boys and beginners; and our reading, our conversation and thinking, are all on a very low level, worthy only of pygmies and manikins.

A man can never have too many books. Neither can he have too many fountain pens, hats, fishing rods, waistcoats, tea caddies, paintings or whatever helps him to feel at home in his surroundings and communicate his personality to the world.

A man has perished; his corpse is dust, and his people have passed from the land; it is a book which makes him remembered in the mouth of a speaker. More excellent is a [papyrus] roll than a built house, than a chapel in the west. It is better than an established villa, than a stela in a temple...

A man reading the Dickens novel wished that it might never end. Men read a Dickens story six times because they knew it so well.

A man who has mastered all the books in the world may still be ignorant if he fails to connect this bookish knowledge with the real world.

A man who looks like Frodo just spent $150 on erotica books and asked for my phone number. I considered giving him yours just to spite you.

Amazing how money would simplify problems like ours. We wouldn't go wild at all, but write & travel & study all of our lives - which I hope we do anyway. And have a house apart, by the side of no road, with country about & a study & walls of bookcases.

Amazing what people will believe just because they read it in a book.

A mind possessed by unmade books, unwritten lines on empty hooks.

Amigo mío, dado el abismo que separa todas tus experiencias de todas las mías, lo más cerca que te puedo situar de ese sabor tan único es decirte que los libros, así, por término medio, saben a lo mismo que huele el café

Among the many worlds which man did not receive as a gift of nature, but which he created with his own mind, the world of books is the greatest. Every child, scrawling his first letters on his slate and attempting to read for the first time, in so doing, enters an artificial and complicated world; to know the laws and rules of this world completely and to practice them perfectly, no single human life is long enough. Without words, without writing, and without books there would be no history, there could be no concept of humanity. And if anyone wants to try to enclose in a small space in a single house or single room, the history of the human spirit and to make it his own, he can only do this in the form of a collection of books.

Among those who could read, books were prized possessions. Words on paper were powerful magic, seductive as music, sharp as a knife at times, or gentle as a kiss. Friendships and love affairs blossomed as men and women read to each other in summer meadows and winter kitchens. Pages were ambrosia in their hands. A new novel or collection of poems was something everybody talked about. Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shakespeare, Bronte, Austen, Dickens, Keats, Emerson, Cooper, Thoreau, Hawthorne, and Twain. To read these authors was to go on a grand adventure and see things as you never had before, see yourself as you never had before.

A moving object will continue in a straight line unless something happens to knock it off its course. Some say this is also true of stories. (From Aldebran Boswell's Book of Scientific Knowledge)

A motion picture, or music, or television, they have to maintain a certain decorum in order to be broadcast to a vast audience. Other forms of mass media cost too much to produce a risk reaching only a limited audience. Only one person. But a book. . . . A book is cheap to print and bind. A book is as private and consensual as sex. A book takes time and effort to consume - something that gives a reader every chance to walk away. Actually, so few people make the effort to read that it's difficult to call books a "mass medium." No one really gives a damn about books. No one has bothered to ban a book in decades.

An acquaintanceship with the literature of the world may be won by any person who will devote half an hour a day to the careful reading of the best books. The habit of reading good books is one that gives great comfort in all the stages and among all the vicissitudes of life. The man who has learned to love good reading is never alone. His friends are the great ones of human history, and to them he may always go for stimulating and helpful communion. --GQ 71 (GQ is A Guide for Quorums of the Melchizedek Priesthood, 3rd Edition, 1930)

An aspiring writer should write one time and edit ten times.

Analyse's head thrashed left and right as he continued his onslaught. Her body scraped against the harsh surface of the tree, tearing a painful howl from her lips yet she wanted more.

An ancient mustiness padded the air, tinged with with an acrid scent-a trace of the war between paper and oxygen, played out in slow inexorable burn that would one day crumble this empire to dust." -page 62

An authors publication date never matters, a book not read yet will always be New"...

An Authorpreneur focuses on establishing one's brand to the consumer using different avenues to promote their work.

An author’s great day is releasing your book into the world like a butterfly and having a reviewer come upon it and say…oh, that’s lovely!

And as I surveyed the clutter of his study I was pleased to see that he was a man after my own heart. All of his money appeared to have been spent on either books or shelves to hold them.

And fight them until there is no persecution, religion is only for Allah. But if they desist, then there should be no hostility except against the oppressors.

And for the next long years of my life, I tried to remember only the reading, not the terrible things that happened to me as I came and went up and down the stairs. The library became my sanctuary. I loved the ways the precious stories took shape but always had room to be read again. I became fascinated with how writers did that. How did they make a story feel so complete and yet to open-ended? It was like painting a picture that changed each time you looked at it.

And everywhere, everywhere there were books. Not the tidy stacks of an intellectual trying to impress, but the slumping piles of a scholar obsessed.

And as their penile pain began to subside, the two men were able to form more complex thoughts, resulting in a collaborative work: the development of a worldview that might be described as “penilosophy.

And did the distress I was feeling derive from some internal sickness of the soul, or was it imposed on me by the sickness of society? That someone besides me had suffered from these ambiguities and had seen light on their far side... that I could find company and consolation and hope in an object pulled almost at random from a bookshelf—felt akin to an instance of religious grace.

And he read Principles of Accounting all morning, but just to make it interesting, he put lots of dragons in it.

And because when all the words of promises and memories fade, these words that are written are the only one that remain. People may change and things may happen when we least expect it to but all these written words are what will keep it all alive. Over and over again. It remains.

And he loves to read. He loves the whisper of the pages and the way his fingertips catch on rough paper, the pour of the words up from the leaves, through soft light, into his eyes, the mute voice in his ears.

And I don't care what age you are, kissing in the rain is the best.

...and he glanced at the backs of the books, with an awakened curiosity that went below the binding. No one who can read, ever looks at a book, even unopened on a shelf, like one who cannot.

And I remembered. I would not be the person I am without the authors who made me what I am- the special ones, the wise ones, sometimes just the ones who got there first. It's not irrelevant, those moments of connection, those places where fiction saves your life. It's the most important thing there is.

And I have fitted up some chambers there Looking towards the golden Eastern air, And level with the living winds, which flow Like waves above the living waves below.— I have sent books and music there, and all Those instruments with which high spirits call The future from its cradle, and the past Out of its grave, and make the present last In thoughts and joys which sleep, but cannot die, Folded within their own eternity.

And in a way I have always thought that words are alive a little, for they can whisper sweet nothings and roar dragon flame with equal efficiency.

And in that moment he realised that even though the dreams they’d seen together, hoped for and believed in had come true, it wasn’t enough. It was far from reality which was lonesome and woeful. And conceived that love had no lastingness, it was brief and momentary. It wasn’t the cherishable sensation spoken of in movies and written in books, rather a delusion inclined on ruining the very spirit, giving way to mournfulness and disappointment.

And I thought Ereaders could not become any more dreadful.

And Marianne, who had the knack of finding her way in every house to the library, however it might be avoided by the family in general, soon procured herself a book.

And I thought about books. And for the first time I realized that a man was behind each one of the books. A man had to think them up. A man had to take a long time to put them down on paper. And I'd never even thought that thought before.

And on the subject of burning books: I want to congratulate librarians, not famous for their physical strength or their powerful political connections or their great wealth, who, all over this country, have staunchly resisted anti-democratic bullies who have tried to remove certain books from their shelves, and have refused to reveal to thought police the names of persons who have checked out those titles. So the America I loved still exists, if not in the White House or the Supreme Court or the Senate or the House of Representatives or the media. The America I love still exists at the front desks of our public libraries.