Book Quotes
The potion drunk by lovers is prepared by no one but themselves. The potion is the sum of one's whole existence.
You got shook and shook till there was nothing left. You lost your name and your body and your self and you just didn't care.
They were steaming out of the station before Maia asked, 'Was it books in the trunk?''It was books, admitted Miss Minton.And Maia said, 'Good.
A town without a book shop was a town without a heart
Her presence had awakened in him a man suddenly whipped by his earlier ideals, whose lost manhood wanted to assert itself in action.
It is intolerable to have one's sufferings twinned with anybody else's.
No moment of charm without long roots in the past, no moment of charm is born on bare soil, a careless accident of beauty, but is the sum of great sorrows, growths, and efforts.
But love, the great narcotic, was the hothouse in which all the selves burst into their fullest bloom...
Men from the mountains always dream of the sea, and above all things I love to travel.
Out of worship and out of love he would let no one light the stove for her either, as if he would be the warmth and the fire to dry and warm her feet.
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.
To set their sufferings alongside the sufferings of another people was to compare them (which hell was worse?), demoting Sarajevo's martyrdom to a mere instance.
What can I say Rango? What can I do to prove to you that I belong to you?
He had appointed her not only guardian angel, but a member of his ideals.
You have no cause to grumble boy. You made your choice and all this is a consequence of your choice. Whatever now ensues is what you yourself have chosen.
With time, many staged photographs turn back into historical evidence, albeit of an impure kind - like most historical evidence.
Francine looked up and mouthed, "Thank you." "any titme, " I lied.
Well, everything's a lesson, isn't it? Learning all the time, as you could say.
The intention to act violently is accompanied by strong feelings of physical distress.
And now, talking of praying, I realise sadly that there will be little point in praying for you. You are passing now to a region where you will be beyond the reach of the power of prayer.
The real proof that I have tried to love and that people have tried to love me back was never going to fit in a kitchen drawer.
It's so clear to me now: the memorizing of a fake prayer, the symbolization of objects, the struggle to relate to the invisible - I needed a religion. I was lost.
Perhaps if I'd had God in my life growing up I would have been able to understand the total and complete unfairness of the universe rewarding mean girls
There is a point in most abusive relationships when it occurs to the beaten party that they are guilty of putting their face in the way of someone else's fist.
Why do people always want to put their hands on vulnerability? I sped up.
love is not boastful. But hate? Apparently hate has a big mouth.
I thought of the past and how one should have respect for it, like the elderly.
It should be noted that my mother has a long history of being disturbingly unperturbed by what normal people deem perturbing. Certain things simply don't strike her as worthy of a sit-down.
Teddy bears are best because they understand it's nice to be alone.
In fact, there are many uses of the innumerable opportunities a modern life supplies for regarding - at a distance, through the medium of photography - other people's pain.
The memory of war, however, like all memory, is mostly local.
When we're healthy we respond to the presence of the hateful with fear and nausea.
And yet, in a sense, in choosing to be deprived of the ability to make an ethical choice, you have in a sense really chosen the good.
Photographs that depict suffering shouldn't be beautiful, as captions shouldn't moralize.
Making suffering loom larger, by globalizing it, may spur people to feel they ought to "care" more.
What does God want? Does God want goodness or the choice of goodness? Is a man who chooses the bad perhaps in some way better than a man who has the good imposed upon him?
Books are the only things worth stealing.
You can viddy that everything in this wicked world counts. You can pony that one thing always leads to another. Right right right.
The thrill of theft, of violence, the urge to live easy - is it worth it when we have undeniable proof, yes, yes, incontrovertible evidence that hell exists?
No, but I do read a lot. I love to read. I could read for days and never stop. I use to be such a bookworm. I would barely look up to notice much of anything.
A book is much more than a delivery vehicle for its contents.
In this way, I was able to place my own concerns aside and curl myself up in the cocoon of somebody else's imagination. My life was suspended - I was in neither one place nor the other.
Sulphurous wind gusted in his wake the dust of the street swirled and the folds of his black coat flapped against his thin body.
I've never understood the desire for books with matched bindings. You don't go through life looking for sets of matched people, and books are just as individual.
The 'one book' which hasn't been written yet, even thenpersistent a book is being written by me, and might never end!While, I survive inside my brain with someone.
Reading a book is like living a deep and fulfilling life. Watching a movie is like being a paralyzed person: watching others live their lives while you observe from the sidelines.
You can’t give what you don’t have. To write, you must read. To write well, read well.