Quotes About Literature

Yeah, I picked up a book and I read. You can get something out of a book, even a bad book ... but a cunt, it's just sheer loss of time. . . .

And while it's all very nice to know that a woman has a mind, literature coming from the cold corpse of a whore is the last thing to be served in bed. Germaine had the right idea: she was ignorant and lusty, she put her heart and soul into her work. She was a whore all the way through—and that was her virtue!

When you visit your analyst does he ask you what you read when using the stool? He should, you know. To an analyst it should make a great difference whether you read one kind of literature in the toilet and another elsewhere. It should even make a difference to him whether you read or do not read—in the toilet. Such matters are unfortunately not widely enough discussed. It is assumed that what one does in the toilet is one's own private affair. It is not. The whole universe is concerned.

Klasikleri sindirmiÅŸ olan herkes, düÅŸmand?r insanl??a

What is not in the open street is false, derived, that is to say, literature.

literature coming from the cold corpse of a whore is the last thing to be served in bed.

I can never forget that Chinese student I knew in Paris - Mr. Tcheou, I think it was. One day, upon asking him if he had ever read Hamlet , he answered: You mean that novel by Jack London?

They were alive and they spoke to me! That is the simplest and most eloquent way in which I can refer to those authors who have remained with me over the years.

Dostoyevski okumaya baÅŸlad???m o ilk gece, hayat?m?n en önemli olaylar?ndan biriydi, ilk aÅŸk?mdan bile daha önemli.

Gold, he says, tends to become more and more invisible, a myth, and no more defalcations. Excellent! I am wondering what will happen to the world when we go off the gold standard in ideas, dress, morals, etc. The gold standard of love! Up to the present, my idea in collaborating with myself has been to get off the gold standard in literature.

What attracted me to her was her passion for Balzac. All the way home, she was talking to me about 'Lost Illusions'. The car was packed, and we were jammed so tight together that it didn't make any difference what we were talking about because we were only thinking of one thing.

To me without Dostoievsky's work there would be a deep, black hole in world literature. The loss of Shakespeare, who must seem like a wild man to the Chinese, would not be as great as losing Dostoievsky.

Ceea ce nu se afl? în strad? este fals, mijlocit, altfel spus, literatur?.

John, did Peter Owen (publisher) send you a copy of my book about books? If not I shall flay him. You were first on the list. But the English move slowly. They are all constipated, water-logged, worm-ridden, damn them!

Develop an interest in life as you see it; the people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls, and interesting people. Forget yourself.

It was always my habit to mark excessively the books I liked. How wonderful it would be, thought I, to see those markings again, to know what were my opinions and reactions in that long ago.

No hotels in the past participle, no subjunctive modes, no conjunctivitis.

He had, moreover, a gift which I only learned the value of much later, namely, the ability to discover in every author that which is valuable and lasting.

The student has his Rome, his whole glowing Italy, within the four walls of his library. He has in his books the ruins of an antique world and the glories of a modern one.

It is true, that it is not at all necessary to love many books, in order to love them much.

No man is equal to his book. All the best products of his mental activity go into his book, where they come separated from the mass of inferior products with which they are mingled in his daily talk.

Book! You lie there; the fact is, you books must know your places. You'll do to give us the bare words and facts, but we come in to supply the thoughts.

The classification of the constituents of a chaos, nothing less is here essayed.

At length I fell asleep, with the volume in my hand; and never slept so sound before