Reading Quotes - Page 8

Everything is an art, which must be mastered.

A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.

He liked the mere act of reading, the magic of turning scratches on a page into words inside his head.

Why can't people just sit and read books and be nice to each other?

There's nothing wrong with reading a book you love over and over. When you do, the words get inside you, become a part of you, in a way that words in a book you've read only once can't.

The books transported her into new worlds and introduced her to amazing people who lived exciting lives. She went on olden-day sailing ships with Joseph Conrad. She went to Africa with Ernest Hemingway and to India with Rudyard Kipling. She travelled all over the world while sitting in her little room in an English village.

So Matilda’s strong young mind continued to grow, nurtured by the voices of all those authors who had sent their books out into the world like ships on the sea. These books gave Matilda a hopeful and comforting message: You are not alone.

I couldn't live a week without a private library - indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.

The reading of all good books is like conversation with the finest men of past centuries.

I thought: pity the poor in spirit who know neither the enchantment nor the beauty of language.

The person who deserves most pity is a lonesome one on a rainy day who doesn't know how to read.

She was fascinated with words. To her, words were things of beauty, each like a magical powder or potion that could be combined with other words to create powerful spells.

Reading well is one of the great pleasures that solitude can afford you.

There is no scent so pleasant to my nostrils as that faint, subtle reek which comes from an ancient book.

There are perhaps no days of our childhood we lived so fully as those we believe we left without having lived them, those we spent with a favorite book.

The ability to read awoke inside of me some long dormant craving to be mentally alive.

I was raised among books, making invisible friends in pages that seemed cast from dust and whose smell I carry on my hands to this day.

Reading is that fruitful miracle of a communication in the midst of solitude.

Books may not change our suffering, books may not protect us from evil, books may not tell us what is good or what is beautiful, and they will certainly not shield us from the common fate of the grave. But books grant us myriad possibilities: the possibility of change, the possibility of illumination.

How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book.