My 11 #books come without pomp n frills, for all seeking #true #meaning & unafraid of overcoming past conditioning. #Rewards are infinite
In the highest civilization, the book is still the highest delight. He who has once known its satisfactions is provided with a resource against calamity.
It's a rare book that wins the battle against drooping eyelids.
Benim için kitap okurken hala önemli olan anlamaktan çok, okuduğum şeye uygun düşler kurmaktır.
Bias rules our minds and causes us to overlook the obvious. From 'Fillossofee: Messages From a Grandfather', by Robert Gately
Reading & Thinking Breeds limitless progress.
If you close your door to the world of books, the gates of the world of ignorance automatically opens and quickly pulls you inside!
I only wrote prose before I met you. My musings were superfluous and serious as well. But now the words dance with me. I sing with them and we create poetry.
I wait all year for the colder seasons, just so that when I wear my Hogwarts scarf it's functional as well as fashionable.
Maybe stories choose how they are told and who tells them.
Be passionate about what you write, believe in your ability to convey timeless ideas, and let no one tell you what what you're capable of.
If therefore that which is sown be not turned upside down, and if the place where the evil is sown passes not away, then cannot it come that is sown with good?
No book can ever be finished. While working on it we learn just enough to find it immature the moment we turn away from it
If life was a book; every day would be a new page, every month would be a new chapter, and every year would be a new series.
There is much to discover that's not on the back cover!
Even a book with completely empty pages will change you because you will start thinking about the reason behind this emptiness and once you enter the thinking territory it means that you entered a ter...
Never lend books, for no one ever returns them; the only books I have in my library are books that other folks have lent me.
It was immediately clear that the book had been undisturbed for a very long time, perhaps even since it had been laid to rest. The librarian fetched a checked duster, and wiped away the dust, a black,...
For the novelist or poet, for the scientist or artist, the question is not do ideas come from, the question is how they come. The is the mystery. The how is fragile.
My only wish is to be buried with my books.