#boo

Even when muddy your wings sparkle bright wonders that heal broken worlds. ↗

— Aberjhani

#angels #beauty #famous-quotes-from-classic-books #grace #haiku

I guess that’s the beauty of books. When they finish they don’t really finish. ↗

— Markus Zusak

#books #markus-zusak #reading #beauty

I've forgotten most of what I've read and, frankly, it never seemed very important to me or to the world. ↗

— Leonard Cohen

#beauty

The worst advice I ever received from my dad was to play by the book. ↗

— Dimebag Darrell

#book #dad #ever #i #play

Books: a beautifully browsable invention that needs no electricity and exists in a readable form no matter what happens. ↗

— Nicholson Baker

#inventions #beauty

It's what I'll be singing in the morning. It won't be God Save the Ruddy King or All Things bleeding Bright and Beautiful. It'll be Orange and Lemons for Big Joe, for all of us. ↗

— Michael Morpurgo

#beauty

…and soon enough his head would be swimming with tales of derring-do and high adventure, tales of beautiful maidens kissed, of evildoers shot with pistols or fought with swords, of bags of gold, of diamonds as big as the tip of your thumb, of lost cities and of vast mountains, of steam-trains and clipper ships, of pampas, oceans, deserts, tundra. ↗

— Neil Gaiman

#reading #stories #beauty

You've come to give me a piece of your mind. You know that phrase is really beautiful. The mind is the most powerful thing in the body. Whatever the mind believes, the body can achieve. So to give someone a piece of it... well thank you. Funny how people are always intent on giving it to the people they dislike when it really should be for the ones they love. ↗

— Cecelia Ahern

#cecelia-ahernt #if-you-could-see-me-now #love #philosphy-of-people #positive-thinking

Hope is a most beautiful drug. ↗

— Jeremy Mercer

#paris #poets #writers #beauty

Steadily, the room shrank, till the book thief could touch the shelves within a few small steps. She ran the back of her hand along the first shelf, listening to the shuffle of her fingernails gliding across the spinal cord of each book. It sounded like an instrument, or the notes of running feet. She used both hands. She raced them. One shelf against the other. And she laughed. Her voice was sprawled out, high in her throat, and when she eventually stopped and stood in the middle of the room, she spent many minutes looking from the shelves to her fingers and back again. How many books had she touched? How many had she felt? She walked over and did it again, this time much slower, with her hand facing forward, allowing the dough of her palm to feel the small hurdle of each book. It felt like magic, like beauty, as bright lines of light shone down from a chandelier. Several times, she almost pulled a title from its place but didn't dare disturb them. They were too perfect. ↗

— Markus Zusak

#library #beauty