The more you read, the less you sound foolish when you speak.
We awaken by asking the right questions.
A library is treasure chamber of knowledge.
Second hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack.
It was good to walk into a library again; it smelled like home.
My grandma always said that God made libraries so that people didn't have any excuse to be stupid.
I couldn't live a week without a private library - indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.
The classroom was a jail of other peopleβs interests. The library was open, unending, free.
When I open them, most of the books have the smell of an earlier time leaking out between the pages - a special odor of the knowledge and emotions that for ages have been calmly resting between the covers. Breathing it in, I glance through a few pages before returning each book to its shelf.
Never lend books, for no one ever returns them; the only books I have in my library are books that other folks have lent me.
Me, poor man, my library Was dukedom large enough.
In the library I felt better, words you could trust and look at till you understood them, they couldn't change half way through a sentence like people, so it was easier to spot a lie.
Come with me,' Mom says. To the library. Books and summertime go together.
Libraries raised me.
I had found my religion: nothing seemed more important to me than a book. I saw the library as a temple.
She'd always been a little excitable, a little more passionate about books than your average person, but she was supposed to be -- she was a librarian, after all.
Until then I had thought each book spoke of the things, human or divine, that lie outside books. Now I realized that not infrequently books speak of books: it is as if they spoke among themselves. In the light of this reflection, the library seemed all the more disturbing to me. It was then the place of a long, centuries-old murmuring, an imperceptible dialogue between one parchment and another, a living thing, a receptacle of powers not to be ruled by a human mind, a treasure of secrets emanated by many minds, surviving the death of those who had produced them or had been their conveyors.
I attempted briefly to consecrate myself in the public library, believing every crack in my soul could be chinked with a book.
The old man was peering intently at the shelves. 'I'll have to admit that he's a very competent scholar.' Isn't he just a librarian?' Garion asked, 'somebody who looks after books?' That's where all the rest of scholarship starts, Garion. All the books in the world won't help you if they're just piled up in a heap.
The library is like a candy store where everything is free.
