I love it when I find a good book. When I read it it’s like being taken away to a different world and you imagine the scenes in you head as if you’re there watching them happen in front of you. It makes you forget about everything for a little while.
“And yet the books will be there on the shelves, separate beings,
That appeared once, still wet
As shining chestnuts under a tree in autumn,
And touched, coddled, began to live
In spite of fires on the horizon, castles blown up,
Tribes on the march, planets in motion.
“We are,” they said, even as their pages
were being torn out, or a buzzing flame
licked away their letters. So much more durable
than we are, whose frail warmth
cools down, with memory, disperses, perishes.
I imagine the earth when I am no more:
Nothing happens, no loss, it’s still a strange pageant,
Women’s dresses, dewy lilacs, a song in the valley,
Yet the books will be there on the shelves, well born,
Derived from people, but also from radiance, heights.”—And Yet the Books - Czeslaw Milosz (via qalum)
“I came to this city to escape. This city is full of towers to climb and climb, and to climb faster and faster, marveling at the design and dreaming at the view from the top. At the top there is a keen wind and everything is so far away it’s impossible to say what is what. There is no one to discuss it with. Cats can count on the fire brigade and Rapunzel was lucky with her hair. Wouldn’t it be nice to sit on the ground again? I came to this city to escape.”—
Zadie Smith offers an ode to bibliomania, a happy disorder nicely accommodated by this forgiving time of year.
"I would like to say in my defense that I don’t really get the appeal of YOLO. I live many times over. Hypothetical, subterranean lives that run beneath the relative tedium of my own and have the power to occasionally penetrate or even derail it."
“When a reader falls in love with a book, it leaves its essence inside him, like radioactive fallout in an arable field, and after that there are certain crops that will no longer grow in him, while other, stranger, more fantastic growths may occasionally be produced.”—Salman Rushdie, Books vs. Goons, L.A. Times, April 24, 2005 (via hoomanao)
“…it may seem like a small role now, but it matters. In the end, everything matters.” - Hannah Baker (Thirteen Reasons Why)
As I have mentioned in the previous post, I did not anticipate how dark the theme of this book would be. That was probably my fault for not reading the jacket of the book, which is the downside sometimes with ebooks. Catered to a younger demographic however, the phrasing of some of the sentences kind of lacked for me, but nonetheless, the storyline was interesting to say the least. It was one of those books that made you think about life and your role in it. It also made me think of the role I played in the lives of others, and whether I was being a positive or negative impact.
Overall, it was worth the read…if not for the storyline, at least for the moral lesson to always be kind to others; everyone has their own personal struggles that they keep to themselves, so you never really know what a person is going through.
"I am a real man, he told the mirror, with a real history and a planned-out future. I am a man to whom certain things are of importance: rigour, self-discipline, reason, the pursuit of what is noble without recourse to that old crutch, God. The ideal of beauty, the possibility of exaltation, the mind."
The thing that makes books beautiful is the fact that a book can stay around for hundreds of years, but the characters stay the same age forever and when we’re that age or our kids are that age, we can just feel like we connect with them on a personal level