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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.
The pleasure of reading is doubled when one lives with another who shares the same books.
The pleasure of reading is doubled when one lives with another who shares the same books.
A room without books is like a body without a soul.
A room without books is like a body without a soul.
A book is the only immortality.
A book is the only immortality.
What is reading, but silent conversation.
What is reading, but silent conversation.
Every man is a volume if you know how to read him.
Every man is a volume if you know how to read him.
Books were my pass to personal freedom. I learned to read at age three, and soon discovered there was a read more
Books were my pass to personal freedom. I learned to read at age three, and soon discovered there was a whole world to conquer that went beyond our farm in Mississippi.
The books that the world calls immoral are the books that show the world its own shame.
The books that the world calls immoral are the books that show the world its own shame.
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.
