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  •   14  /  26  

    The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as the charm of music dwells not in the tones but in the echoes of our hearts.

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  15  /  30  

A bad book is as much of a labor to write as a good one, it comes as sincerely from read more

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

by Aldous Huxley Found in: Books Quotes,
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  22  /  26  

He who studies books alone will know how things ought to be, and he who studies men will know how read more

He who studies books alone will know how things ought to be, and he who studies men will know how they are.

by C. C. Colton Found in: Books Quotes, Study Quotes,
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  19  /  38  

A book is a mirror: If an ass peers into it, you can't expect an apostle to look out.

A book is a mirror: If an ass peers into it, you can't expect an apostle to look out.

by G. C. Lichtenberg Found in: Books Quotes,
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  13  /  11  

Outside of a dog, a man's best friend is a book. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read.

Outside of a dog, a man's best friend is a book. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read.

by Groucho Marx Found in: Books Quotes,
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  5  /  14  

Every man is a volume if you know how to read him.

Every man is a volume if you know how to read him.

by William Ellery Channing Found in: Books Quotes,
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  11  /  53  

I would rather be poor in a cottage full of books than a king without the desire to read.

I would rather be poor in a cottage full of books than a king without the desire to read.

by Unknown Found in: Books Quotes,
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  5  /  17  

A room without books is like a body without a soul.

A room without books is like a body without a soul.

by Cicero Found in: Books Quotes,
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  12  /  22  

Books, books, books!
I had found the secret of a garret room
Piled high with cases in read more

Books, books, books!
I had found the secret of a garret room
Piled high with cases in my father's name;
Piled high, packed large,--where, creeping in and out
Among the giant fossils of my past,
Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs
Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there
At this or that box, pulling through the gap,
In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy,
The first book first. And how I felt it beat
Under my pillow, in the morning's dark,
An hour before the sun would let me read!
My books!
At last, because the time was ripe,
I chanced upon the poets.

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  14  /  30  

A book is the only immortality.

A book is the only immortality.

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