J. B. Bury Quotes
Books delight us when prosperity smiles upon us; they comfort us inseparably when stormy fortune frowns on us.
All the glory of the world would be buried in oblivion, unless God had provided mortals with the remedy of books.
The ideal of progress, freedom of thought, and the decline of ecclesiastical power go together.
A library of wisdom, then, is more precious than all wealth, and all things that are desirable cannot be compared to it.
In winter the very ground seemed to reach up and grab the elderly, yanking them to earth as though hungry for them.
Books alone are liberal and free; they give to all who ask; they emancipate all who serve them faithfully.
To the Indians it seemed that these Europeans hated everything in nature - the living forests and their birds and beasts, the grassy grades, the water, the soil, the air itself.
Please bury me in the library With a dozen long-stemmed proses
Books appear to be the most immediate instruments of speculative delight.
The Macedonian people and their kings were of Greek stock, as their traditions and the scanty remains of their language combine to testify.
Then he kissed her without breathing, without thinking. He kissed her until his entire body was tingling from the taste of her.
All the glory of the world would be buried in oblivion unless God had provided mortals with the remedy of books.
…while men and women perished, and cities fell, symbols endured, grew. Symbols were immortal.
Shakespeare: …the best way to peace is to have a still and quiet conscience. Or none at all, thought Gamache.
Conscience. Imagine being pursued by your own conscience….A mountain of conscience. Throwing a lengthening shadow. Growing. Darkening.
A murder was never about brawn, it began and ended in the brain and the brain could justify anything.
And this is when I knew I was black for real.This is when I knew black was a citywhose walls were constantly under siege....
She’d forgotten to love, but she also forgot to hate. (about Clara’s mother, who had dementia)
…in the library…surrounded by things far more dangerous than what roamed the school corridors. For here thoughts were housed.
That was the danger. Not that betrayals happened, not that cruel things happened, but that they could outweigh all the good. That we could forget the good and only remember the bad.
…struck. Once. And into that blow he put his childhood, his grief, his loss. He put his mother’s sorrow and his sister’s longing. The menorah, weighed down with that, crushed the Hermit’s skull.
Joy doesn't ever leave, you know. It's always with you. And one day you'll find it again.
He had his treasure, but finally all he wanted was his family. And peace.
LibrariesAreNeccessaryGardens, UnsurpassedAtGrowingExcitement
