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Books, books, books!
I had found the secret of a garret room
Piled high with cases in read more
Books, books, books!
I had found the secret of a garret room
Piled high with cases in my father's name;
Piled high, packed large,--where, creeping in and out
Among the giant fossils of my past,
Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs
Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there
At this or that box, pulling through the gap,
In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy,
The first book first. And how I felt it beat
Under my pillow, in the morning's dark,
An hour before the sun would let me read!
My books!
At last, because the time was ripe,
I chanced upon the poets.
My books are water; those of the great geniuses are wine--everybody drinks water.
My books are water; those of the great geniuses are wine--everybody drinks water.
There is no Past, so long as Books shall live!
There is no Past, so long as Books shall live!
We get no good
By being ungenerous, even to a book,
And calculating profits--so much help
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We get no good
By being ungenerous, even to a book,
And calculating profits--so much help
By so much reading. It is rather when
We gloriously forget ourselves, and plunge
Soul-forward, headlong, into a book's profound,
Impassioned for its beauty, and salt of truth--
'Tis then we get the right good from a book.
Books are for people who wish they were somewhere else.
Books are for people who wish they were somewhere else.
The covers of this book are too far apart.
The covers of this book are too far apart.
Books must follow sciences, and not sciences books.
Books must follow sciences, and not sciences books.
Every man is a volume if you know how to read him.
Every man is a volume if you know how to read him.
