Quotes About Book

T]he more one reads Thucydides, the less one feels that Athens's suffering was fitting or deserved. And, more generally, our first response to the book as a whole is not satisfaction at justice having been done, but is far more likely to be a feeling of sadness. This sadness arises, in large measure at least, from a growing sense that the defeat of Athens is not the victory of justice, but that justice itself is among the chief victims of the war.

A bran' new book is a beautiful thing, all promise and fresh pages, the neatly squared spine, the brisk sense of a journey beginning. But a well-worn book also has its pleasures, the soft caress and give of the paper's edges, the comfort, like an old shawl, of an oft-read story.

I'm very much afraid I didn't mean anything but nonsense. Still, you know, words mean more than we mean to express when we use them; so a whole book ought to mean a great deal more than the writer means. So, whatever good meanings are in the book, I'm glad to accept as the meaning of the book.

is the use of a book,' thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?' So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain

was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, "and what is the use of a book

It's rather curious, you know, this sort of life! I do wonder what can have happened to me! When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one! There ought to be a book written about me, that there ought! And when I grow up, I'll write one—but I'm grown up now," she added in a sorrowful tone; "at least there's no room to grow up any more here.

To its original readers in 1932 Sunset Song was a book in itself; they could not know it was the first part of a trilogy. Many reacted with disgust to its frank treatment of sex and childbearing, its scorn for the rich and powerful, its sometimes strident anti-clericalism.

I thought research would be more glamorous, somehow. I'd give the librarian a secret code word and he'd give me the one book I needed and whisper the necessary page numbers. Like a speakeasy. With books.

There in the city's steam-and-smoke-smudged harbor is the most extraordinary sight of all: a great copper-clad lady with a torch in one hand and a book in the other. It is not a statesman or a god or a war hero who welcomes us to this new world. It is but an ordinary woman lighting the way- a lady offering us the liberty to pursue our dreams if we've the courage to begin.

A bonfire billowed up. Some in the crowd tossed copies of Ladybird's book into the fire while a librarian pleaded with them not to do that and grabbed a fire extinguisher.* *Really, being a librarian is a much more dangerous job than you realize.

I look at what's going on in our society and what's pissing me off at the moment and I just get my basic gut reaction to that and that gut reaction usually becomes the title of the book.

Put away the book, the description, the tradition, the authority, and take the journey of self-discovery.

What an inspiring book. Thank heaven Lee Thornton decided to share her remarkable life story with us. Lee's book is a blessing as well as a terrific read.

I really have reached a point where I can write a book about all of this.

Higginson served until 1864, and recorded his adventures in a book based on a diary he wrote while campaigning in the South, Army Life in a Black Regiment (1870). The book is a classic of Civil War literature.

Ancient Egypt 1300BC Be a scribe! Engrave this in your heart So that your name might live on like theirs! The scroll is better than the carved stone. A man has died: his corpse is dust, And his people have passed from the land. It is a book that makes him be remembered In the mouth of the speaker who reads him.

Each reader is but one chapter in the life of a book, and unless he passes his knowledge on to others, it is as if he condemned the book to be buried alive.

Erinnerungen und Scheinerinnerungen. Ich glaube, mich genau an etwas zu erinnern. Eine Notiz auf dem Nachsatzpapier eines Buches, das ich durch Zufall aufschlage, beweist, dass ich mich irre. Die Sache ist irgendwo anders passiert, mit jemand anderem, zu einer anderen Zeit.

A bad book is as much of a labor to write as a good one; it comes as sincerely from the author's soul.

All our science is just a cookery book, with an orthodox theory of cooking that nobody's allowed to question, and a list of recipes that mustn't be added to except by special permission from the head cook.

In the visitor's book at Crome Ivor had left, according to his invariable custom in these cases, a poem. He had improvised it magisterially in the ten minutes preceding his departure. Denis and Mr. Scogan strolled back together from the gates of the courtyard, whence they had bidden their last farewells; on the writing-table in the hall they found the visitor's book, open, and Ivor's composition scarcely dry. Mr. Scogan read it aloud:

But silence and the topless dark Vault in the lights of Luna Park; And Blackpool from the nightly gloom Hollows a bright tumultuous tomb. He put it down again, shook his head, and sighed. What genius I had then! he reflected, echoing the aged Swift. It was nearly six months since the book had been published; he was glad to think he would never write anything of the same sort again. Who could have been reading it, he wondered?

The Deputy Sub-Bursar heard no more; he had slipped out of the vestibule and was looking up a number in the telephone book.

Private. Not to be opened, was written in capital letters on the cover. He raised his eyebrows. It was the sort of thing one wrote in one's Latin Grammar while one was still at one's preparatory school. Black is the raven, black is the rook, But blacker the thief who steals this book! It was curiously childish, he thought, and he smiled to himself. He opened the book. What he saw made him wince as though he had been struck.