wallflower’s Loved Quotes

Oh, magic hour, when a child first knows she can read printed words.

No matter what mood a man may be in, when once he has passed through the magic door he can summon the world's greatest to sympathize with him in it. If he be thoughtful, here are the kings of thought. If he be dreamy, here are the masters of fancy. [...] The dead are such good company that one may come to think too little of the living.

Books are the plane, and the train, and the road. They are the destination, and the journey. They are home.

There are two motives for reading a book: one, that you enjoy it; the other, that you can boast about it.

She should have done science, not spent all her time with her head in novels. Novels gave you a completely false idea about life, they told lies and they implied there were endings when in reality there were no endings, everything just went on and on and on.

What a blessing it is to love books as I love them, to be able to converse with the dead, and to live amidst the unreal!

Books support us in our solitude and keep us from being a burden to ourselves.

In a very real sense, people who have read good literature have lived more than people who cannot or will not read.

Nothing ever invented provides such sustenance, such infinite reward for time spent, as a good book.

The demand that I make of my reader is that he should devote his whole Life to reading my works.

People don’t read enough. And what reading we do is cursory, without absorbing the subtleties and nuances that lie deep within – Wow, you’ve stopped paying attention, haven’t you? People can’t even read a coffee cup without drifting off.

Read widely and with discrimination. Bad writing is contagious.

Every man who knows how to read has it in his power to magnify himself, to multiply the ways in which he exists.

Once you learn to read, you will be forever free.

Reading was my escape and my comfort, my consolation, my stimulant of choice: reading for the pure pleasure of it, for the beautiful stillness that surrounds you when you hear an author’s words reverberating in your head.

We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken.

You matter as much as the things that matter to you. And I got so backwards trying to matter to him. All this time, there were real things to care about: real, good people who care about me, and this place. It's so easy to get stuck. You just get caught in being something, being special or cool, to the point where you don't even know why you need it; you just think you do.

If people could see me the way I see myself - if they could live in my memories - would anyone love me?

“I am going to take this bucket of water and pour it on the flames of hell, and then I am going to use this torch to burn down the gates of paradise so that people will not love God for want of heaven or fear of hell, but because He is God.”

Pain demands to be felt.