Books

Outside of a dog, a man's best friend is a book. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read.

Outside of a dog, a man's best friend is a book. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read.

I am not a speed reader. I am a speed understander.

I am not a speed reader. I am a speed understander.

Oh that one would hear me! behold, my desire is, that the
Almighty would answer me, and that mine read more

Oh that one would hear me! behold, my desire is, that the
Almighty would answer me, and that mine adversary had written a
book.

The covers of this book are too far apart.

The covers of this book are too far apart.

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, 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.

Laws die, Books never.

Laws die, Books never.

Hark, the world so loud,
And they, the movers of the world, so still!

Hark, the world so loud,
And they, the movers of the world, so still!

We call some books immortal! Do they live?
If so, believe me, Time hath made them pure.
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We call some books immortal! Do they live?
If so, believe me, Time hath made them pure.
In Books, the veriest wicked rest in peace.

The Wise
(Minstrel or Sage,) out of their books are clay;
But in their books, as from read more

The Wise
(Minstrel or Sage,) out of their books are clay;
But in their books, as from their graves they rise.
Angels--that, side by side, upon our way,
Walk with and warn us!