Books were only one type of recepticle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget.There is nothing magical in them, at all.The magic is only in what books say, how they stitches th...
Books were only a receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we would forget.
Belki bin yıl içinde atlamak için daha küçük uçurumlar seçeriz.
Believe in one thing too much and you have no room for new ideas.
Augmentez la dose de sports pour chacun, développez l'esprit d'équipe, de compétition, et le besoin de penser est éliminé, non ? Organiser, organisez, super-organisez des super-super-sports. Multiplie...
Ask me, then, if I believe in the spirit of the things as they were used, and I'll say yes. They're all here. All the things which had uses. All the mountains which had names. And we'll never be able...
As Samuel Spaulding, Esquire, once said, 'Dig in the earth, delve in the soul.' Spin those mower blades, Bill, and walk in the spray of the Fountain of Youth. End of lecture. Besides, a mess of dandel...
And when a man talks from his heart, in his moment of truth, he speaks poetry.
And what, you ask, does writing teach us? First and foremost, it reminds us that we are alive and that it is a gift and a privilege, not a right.
And they made Alice drink something from a bottle which reduced her to a size where she could no longer cry 'Curiouser and curiouser,' and they gave the Looking Glass one hammer blow to smash it and e...
And then, to the sound of death, the sound of the jets cutting the sky in two black pieces beyond the horizon, he would lie in the loft, hidden and safe, watching those strange new stars over the rim...
And the sun goes on, day after day, burning and burning. The sun and time. The sun and time and burning. Burning.
And the men of Mars realized that in order to survive they would have to forgo asking that one question any longer: Why live? Life was its own answer.
And some days, he went on, were days of hearing every trump and trill of the universe. Some days were good for tasting and some for touching. And some days were good for all the senses at once. This d...
And running, Will thought, Boy, it’s the same old thing. I talk. Jim runs. I tilt stones, Jim grabs the cold junk under the stones and—lickety-split! I climb hills. Jim yells off church steeples. I go...
And on either side of the river was there a tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month; And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. Yes, th...
And now the great loose brain was disintegrating. The components of the brain which had worked so beautifully and efficiently in the skull case of the rocket ship firing through space were dying one b...
And because they had mass, they became simpler, said Beatty. Once, books appealed to a few people, here, there, everywhere. They could afford to be different. The world was roomy. But then the world g...
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 n...
All the time he had been talking his hands had wandered over the Illustrations, as if to adjust their frames, to brush away dust- the motions of a connoisseur, an art patron.