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  14  /  26  

The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as read more

The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as the charm of music dwells not in the tones but in the echoes of our hearts.

by John Greenleaf Whittier Found in: Books Quotes,
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Books serve to show a man that those original thoughts of his aren't very new after all

Books serve to show a man that those original thoughts of his aren't very new after all

by Abraham Lincoln Found in: Books Quotes,
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  10  /  14  

Book lovers will understand me, and they will know too that part of the pleasure of a library lies in read more

Book lovers will understand me, and they will know too that part of the pleasure of a library lies in its very existence

by Jan Morris Found in: Books Quotes,
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Books are humanity in print.

Books are humanity in print.

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The printing press is either the greatest blessing or the greatest curse of modern times, sometimes one forgets which it read more

The printing press is either the greatest blessing or the greatest curse of modern times, sometimes one forgets which it is.

by Sir James M. Barrie Found in: Books Quotes,
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The covers of this book are too far apart.

The covers of this book are too far apart.

by Bible Found in: Books Quotes,
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That is a good book which is opened with expectation and closed
with profit.

That is a good book which is opened with expectation and closed
with profit.

by Amos Bronson Alcott Found in: Books Quotes,
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Books are a finer world within the world.

Books are a finer world within the world.

by Alexander Smith Found in: Books Quotes,
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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.

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