Quotes About Reading

Is this yours?' 'Yes, Papa.' 'Do you want to read it?' Again, 'Yes, Papa.' A tired smile. Metallic eyes, melting. 'Well we'd better read it then.

I was always reading books when I should have been doing math and the rest of it.

That aside, I read more books than I should, and I'm decidedly crap at sex and doing my taxes. Nice to meet you.)

That aside, I read more books than I should, and I'm decidedly crap at sex and doing my taxes. Nice to meet you.

In bed, she read with Papa, who could tell something was wrong. It was the first time in a month that he'd come in and sat with her, and she was comforted, if only slightly. Somehow, Hans Hubermann always knew what to say, when to stay, and when to leave her be. Perhaps Liesel was the one thing he was a true expert at.

Sin embargo —seguramente por la atracción que ejercían los libros sobre ella— acabó entrando en la casa.

politics. Later, they read some more in bed, adhering to the tradition of circling the words she didn't know and

All afternoon, I read. I fall asleep once as well, no disrespect to the writers.

They sat a few meters apart, speaking very rarely, and there was really only the noise of turning pages (…) Where Hans Hubermann and Erik Vandenburg were ultimately united by music, Max and Liesel were held together by the quiet gathering of words. Hi, Max. Hi, Liesel. They would sit and read.

Books everywhere! Each wall was armed with overcrowded yet immaculate shelving. It was barely possible to see the paintwork. There were all different styles and sizes of lettering on the spines of the black, the red, the grey, the every-coloured books. It was one of the most beautiful things Liesel Meminger had ever seen. With

A 2 A.M. CONVERSATION**** Is this yours? Yes, Papa. Do you want to read it? Again, Yes,Papa. A tired smile. Metallic eyes, melting. Well, we'd better read it, then.

The brother shivers. The woman weeps. And the girl goes on reading, for that's why she's there, and it feels good to be something in the aftermath of the snows of Stalingrad.

I still remember staying up all night to get it done, and I realize that's always the best time to finish a book. The sun is yet to come up. It seems the whole world is asleep, and there you are, on your own, with the pages set before you.

There is an impression abroad that literary folk are fast readers. Wine tasters are not heavy drinkers. Literary people read slowly because they sample the complex dimensions and flavors of words and phrases. They strive for totality not lineality. They are well aware that the words on the page have to be decanted with the utmost skill. Those who imagine they read only for content are illusioned.

Acabaré la carta amb una cita que em va encantar quan la vaig llegir per primer cop, fa molts anys. És de Montesquieu, que va tenir una vida tan afortunada, o una filosofia de vida tan magnífica, com per poder dir: «Je n'ai jamais eu de chagrin qu'une heure de lecture n'ait dissipé» (No he tingut mai cap pena que una hora de lectura no hagi dissipat). Quina sort, la de Montesquieu!

It was the sort of room that made you want to stand around in it and read for the rest of your life

Having little to do with the present, Mr. Beaton had plenty of room for the past. Oh, yes, he read the papers and knew that governments came and went (Conservative, Labor, Sociopath, Mr. Beaton would chuckle), but that made no odds to him.

Perhaps there are other bits of my life that would take on content, take on shadow, if only I read more and thought less about money.

The only writer who gives me unfeigned pleasure is P.G. Wodehouse. And even him I find a bit heavy. He takes a lot out of me. Scratching my hair, with soft whistles, with lips aquiver, I frown over Sunset at Blandings.

Richard's bookshelves weren't alphabetized. He never had time to alphabetize them. He was always too busy- looking for books he couldn't find.

He turns the pages from right to left. He begins at the beginning and ends at the end. This makes a quirky sense to me—but Mikio and I are definitely in the minority here. And how can we two be right? It would make so many others wrong. Water moves upward. It seeks the highest level. What did you expect? Smoke falls. Things are created in the violence of fire. But that's all right. Gravity still pins us to the planet.

I want to convey a mood, and what you are reading is a constituent of how you feel. In biographies they should always tell us that, routinely, in the margin: what they were reading. What

Bobby You could throw the book at the cow. Billy I would rather to read the book, Bobby. Bobby It takes all kinds, as they say.

Hercule was thoughtful, learned and well read, something of an inspiration to Bruno, who was learning that he need not be limited by the inadequacies of his own schooling but that he could read for himself, learn by himself, think for himself.