Quotes About Reading

She held one of her father's huge juicy pasties in one hand and munched it as she read. Crumbs kept falling on her book and she brushed them off with the pasty when they fell on the page she was reading.

Em primeiro lugar, leia sempre tudo cuidadosamente. A forma deve lhe dizer muito, quer seja pra auto-realização ou autodescoberta ou simples encantamento, ou um misto de ação e fala. Quando decidir isso, reveja tudo e defina que partes significam o que dizem e que partes são incluídas como quebra-cabeça. Você está chegando aos tipos mais poderosos.

If it had not been time to get up, he would have gone straight back to the beginning and started reading the book again.

For those of us with a bookish bent, reading is a reflexive response to everything. This is how we deal with the world and anything that comes our way. We have always known that there is a book for every occasion and every obsession. When in doubt, we are always looking things up.

What better place to kill time than a library? And for me, what better way to get to know someone than through her choice and treatment of books?

And sometimes then he sat with us for an hour or so, sharing our limbo, listening while I read. Books from any shelf, opened at any page, in which I would start and finish anywhere, mid-sentence sometimes. Wuthering Heights ran into Emma, which gave way to The Eustace Diamonds, which faded into Hard Times, which ceded to The Woman in White. Fragments. It didn't matter. Art, its completeness, its formedness, its finishedness, had no power to console. Words, on the other hand, were a lifeline.

She could not read a book for fear of the feelings she might find in it.

I have always been a reader; I have read at every stage of my life and there has never been a time when reading was not my greatest joy. And yet I cannot pretend that the reading I have done in my adult years matches in its impact on my soul the reading I did as a child. I still believe in stories. I still forget myself when I am in the middle of a good book. Yet it is not the same.

In the background is the hiss of the gas heater; we hear the sound without hearing it for, side by side, together and miles apart, we are deep in our books.

For at eight o'clock the world came to an end. It was reading time. The hours between eight in the evening and one or two in the morning have always been my magic hours. Against the blue candlewick bedspread the white pages of my open book, illuminated by a circle of lamplight, were the gateway to another world.

Our clients' faces, with the customary outward paleness and inner glow of the book lover.

on those days when he could not spend half an hour in the company of a good book, he felt deprived.

Though my appetite for food grew frail, my hunger for books was constant.

Time was of the essence. For at eight o'clock the world came to an end. It was reading time. The hours between eight in the evening and one or two in the morning have always been my magic hours. Against the blue candlewick bedspread the white pages of my open book, illuminated by a circle of lamplight, were the gateway to another world.

pasaul? ir p?r?k daudz gr?matu, lai t?s izlas?tu vienas dz?ves laik?; kaut kur ir j?novelk sv?tra.

Do you know the feeling when you start reading a new book before the membrane of the last one has had time to close behind you? You leave the previous book with ideas and themes – characters even – caught in the fibres of your clothes, and when you open the new book they are still with you.

For at eight o'clock the world came to an end. It was reading time. The hours between eight in the evening and one or two in the morning have always been my magic hours.

Miss Winter restored to me the virginal qualities of the novice reader, and then with her stories she ravished me.

Do they sense it, these dead writers, when their books are read? Does a pinprick of light appear in their darkness? Is their soul stirred by the feather touch of another mind reading theirs? I do hope so. For it must be very lonely being dead.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Los casos de Sherlock Holmes. Tomar diez páginas, dos veces al día, hasta finalizar el tratamiento».

Avete presente quando cominciate a leggere un nuovo libro prima che la membrana di quello precedente abbia avuto il tempo di richiudersi dietro di voi? Quando lasciate il vecchio libro avete idee, argomenti - perfino personaggi - impigliati nelle fibre dei vestiti e, aprendo quello nuovo, scoprite che sono ancora con voi.

Jane Eyre. Villette. The Woman in White." "Middlemarch

Quite by chance, her talk of ghosts comes on the very day the book I am in the middle of reading has completely disappeared, only to be replaced by a novella by Henry James.

Cogí la receta. Con letra enérgica, había escrito: «Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Los casos de Sherlock Holmes. Tomar diez páginas, dos veces al día, hasta finalizar el tratamiento».