Quando per tanti anni ti leghi ad una persona, tranciare il filo che ti tiene avvinta è impossibile. Il filo delicato diviene una catena con lucchetti a doppia mandata e non esiste modo per liberarsi del ricordo, del sentimento che ti fa battere il cuore, incendiare il sangue e amare il passato che ti fa sentire ancora viva.
Perché era così difficile dire "mi mancherai" oppure "ti voglio bene"? Cosa c'era che non andava in queste frasi? Perché l'orgoglio mi terrorizzava a tal punto da congelarmi ogni parola sulla lingua? Avrei voluto essere più sfacciata e invece non riuscivo a dirgli cosa provavo, come se fosse una debolezza imperdonabile voler bene a qualcuno.
La promessa diventa un dolce pensiero che allevia la distanza e supera il tempo, poi un ricordo che si perde lento ma conserva il sogno, poi la rinuncia per paura che non sia altro che un sogno. Ma quando ami, quando ami davvero, basta un momento, uno sguardo, fosse pure solo un'immagine sbiadita tra la pioggia, e si riaccende tutto.
Nel profondo avrei tanto voluto tagliare il filo che mi teneva avvinta ai miei tredici anni, reciderlo dalla radice, ma questa quercia millenaria aveva affondato le sue innumerevoli ramificazioni intorno all'anima e stringeva così forte, da inchiodarmi al terreno dei ricordi.
Cram your head with characters and stories. Abuse your library privileges. Never stop looking at the world, and never stop reading to find out what sense other people have made of it. If people give you a hard time and tell you to get your nose out of a book, tell them you're working. Tell them it's research. Tell them to pipe down and leave you alone.
The internet is killing the art of writing. The big "publish" button begs you to publish even before you go back and make one single edit, and as if this was not enough, you have instant readers who praise your writing skills!-
Holding a precious book meant to Mendel what an assignment with a woman might to another man. These moments were his platonic nights of love. Books had power over him; money never did. Great collectors, including the founder of a collection in Princeton University Library, tried in vain to recruit him as an adviser and buyer for their libraries—Jakob Mendel declined; no one could imagine him anywhere but in the Café Gluck. Thirty-three years ago, when his beard was still soft and black and he had ringlets over his forehead, he had come from the east to Vienna, a crook-backed lad, to study for the rabbinate, but he had soon abandoned Jehovah the harsh One God to give himself up to idolatry in the form of the brilliant, thousand-fold polytheism of books. That was when he had first found his way to the Café Gluck, and gradually it became his workplace, his headquarters, his post office, his world. Like an astronomer alone in his observatory, studying myriads of stars every night through the tiny round lens of the telescope, observing their mysterious courses, their wandering multitude as they are extinguished and then appear again, so Jakob Mendel looked through his glasses out from that rectangular table into the other universe of books, also eternally circling and being reborn in that world above our own.
He was a far more voracious reader than me, but he made it a rule to never touch a book by any author who had not been dead at least 30 years. "That's the only kind of book I can trust," he said."It's not that I don't believe in contemporary literature," he added, "but I don't want to waste valuable time reading a book that has not had the baptism of time. Life is too short.
The synopsis looked good, the cover looked nice, you opened the book and began a new life. You found a new home, you met some new friends, you kept on reading, hoping it ould never end. You danced through the pages, you sang out the words you felt all their joy, and all their pain and hurt. The pages cut your fingers, and the words cut your heart, like the author had a knife, and was tearing your soul apart. You laughed with the characters, and with them, you cried, you fell in love with them, too but with them, you died, and when the book reached its end, and your broken heart couldn't heal, you suddenly realized that its not real.
I used to be afraid about what people might say or think after reading what I had written. I am not afraid anymore, because when I write, I am not trying to prove anything to anyone, I am just expressing myself and my opinions. It’s ok if my opinions are different from those of the reader, each of us can have his own opinions. So writing is like talking, if you are afraid of writing, you may end up being afraid of talking
I am not a supporter of burning books; but like poison, some books should be kept away from simple minds who can't take in the strong content they provide
One author said "I write because I want to live a footprint in the sands of history.” It's hard to live a footprint in the sands of history when giants are passing through the same sands unless you are one of the giants
Upon reading, great stories by Great Spirits, the glorious inspiration penetrated our soul; we can’t help but to shed tears. It was a soul soothing and a deep spiritual awaken.
If you read stories, you find the strength, faith and hope to survive everyday life.
In order to protect their good names for posterity, many writers never wrote what they thought or the truth as it stood. That's why truth still lies hidden in matters of power, sex and religion. No wonder they chose to do so, many who dared paid with their heads
A few hours spent reading a book is better than a lifetime of ignorance.
Read, re-read! Every word you read is a food for thy soul!
Nothing will be impossible for the one who reads.
How could we love books more than money? This is the state of book lovers.
Lover of books, lover of knowledge.
If you are writing fiction, think like a god. Release all the power of your imagination; create worlds and destroy them at your will, create as many miracles as your story needs
The world would have been a better place if some men had just shut their mouths.
I am what I have ever read
We write, not because we claim to know more than others, but perhaps because we want to know more than others. Writers are explorers
Words disappear in the air, but writing remains. If you want something to be remembered about you, write it down
A writer is never alone, he is always with himself
You say you have nothing to write about? How do you find things to talk about? You can write about those things you like to talk about, that's your area of expertise
. If you want to write, just write anything that comes into your mind. You will be surprised at how you can force inspiration to stand on your side.
You can edit what you write. Why not edit what you say? If it hurts somebody, you can still offer an apology or withdraw your statements
Able writers let us into their minds and show us how they think and by that open our minds to ourselves
Sometimes I have a good idea, something I wish I could remember, and instead of writing it down, commit it to my memory only to disappear when I needed it. Write your ideas as they come, if you wait it will be too long and you may not recover it. It may get destroyed as it is to seed to and fro in the ever rushing river of our thoughts
If you are afraid of the critics you will never write a word
You never know what you will write until you write it
Write it as you see in your own perspective, you may be right or wrong but then what, that's how you see it
How do you feel when you read stuff written by dead authors? A visit by a ghost?
You cannot write if you are not angry
You cannot write if you are not on fire
Writing is sharing. You share what you have. Great writers have more to share
People speak even after their death. Only do speak those who have recorded their speech in writing before they die, the rest go silent forever
The power of a writer is that he is a god of sorts. He can create his own worlds and populate them with his own people, all by the powers of his imagination. It's the closest a man can come close to the gods. No wonder the most successful writers are considered immortals
Self-censorship is more efficient than any police. You write and say not what you really think, but what you believe is acceptable. By that process we lose those revolutionary ideas that could change society for the better
Many writers write because they’ve been there, seen that, did it and burnt their fingers
A writer reports on the universe. When he presents his credentials, the gates of heaven and hell are equally opened to him. He can hear the devil’s defense and god’s accusations. The guards at the king’s heart let him in. The writer can be anything and any one he wants. When he writes he is a god, he creates.
If I can write, who possibly can’t. Even drawing a line in the sand is writing
The power of the writer is to capture the thoughts live and present them as they appeared in his mind
Writing is self-pleasure
Writing is all about self-expression, we want to speak up, to get it off our chest. Whether we make an impact or not that is not for us to decide
If I had time, money and knowledge I could write about everything; but no problem, Google is already doing it
Writing is magic happening on paper
Every book is worth reading. If it cannot make you wiser it will make you a critic
Today almost everybody is a writer, the enormous publish button on blogs and websites begs you everywhere to click on it! And bam you are a writer. To hell with agents and publishing houses and rejection letters. Immortality for you is on the click of a mouth! We are advancing at the speed of light! You can become an author at 140 characters. To hell with long winding sentences and long hours of scratching the head, the immortals of today instantly get a "like" and they instantly enter the pantheon! They seat side by side Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, St Paul, Buddha, Martin Luther, Rousseau, Bangambiki…
When I write sometimes I strike gold, sometimes I labor in vain and keep producing rubbish
Don't believe in everything that is written. Not everything that is written is true
I wish I could remember the moment when I was a kid and I discovered that the letters linked into words, and that the words linked to real things. What a revelation that must have been. We don't have the words for it, since we hadn't yet learned the words. It must have been astonishing, to be given the key to the kingdom and see it turn in our hands so easily.
I like to think of books as lovers; you have to introduce yourself slowly to them, read them one page at a time. Notice them, appreciate them. Respect what they're trying to tell you, let their words caress you, then sink into you, and finally, become a part of you.
Read good books to improve yourself.
His goal (Bezos's)was not just to make browsing for books easy, but an enjoyable experience. “People don’t just buy books because they need books,” he has said. “There are products like that. Pharmaceuticals are that way. Nobody enjoys browsing the Preparation H counter. But people will gladly spend hours in a bookstore, so you have to make the shopping experience fun and engaging.
I am sorry, I am not a writer. I simply put my thoughts on paper. Those helped by them call them a book and me a writer. Those who are not helped call it rubbish and me a fool. Both have reason.
One day I will write a book. An epitaph
Every book has its ancestors
Writing is exposing yourself to strangers
Writing is a competition between the writer and the page. When the page wins, you fail as a writer.
I always thought 'love at first sight' was silly and incredibly irresponsible. Then, you came along and you flipped it on me. I understand it now. I do! ~Sheriff Derrick Decker
I took my time, running my fingers along the spines of books, stopping to pull a title from the shelf and inspect it. A sense of well-being flowed through me as I circled the ground floor. It was better than meditation or a new pair of shoes- or even chocolate. My life was a disaster, but there were still books. Lots and lots of books. A refuge. A solace. Each one offering the possibility of a new beginning.
So many books to read, will I ever finish reading?
There was a table laid with jellies and trifles, with a party hat beside each place, and a birthday cake with seven candles on it in the center of the table. The cake had a book drawn on it, in icing. My mother, who had organized the party, told me that the lady at the bakery said that they had never put a book on a birthday cake before, and that mostly for boys it was footballs or spaceships. I was their first book.
A book can become your best companion in times of crisis.Not only do you learn in the journey of your pages, but rediscover yourself, with your virtues and defects ... often makes you question everything, even life itself.The books are fantastic, as they not only transport you to other places and the awakening of sensations, curiosity, laughter, hilarity, sadness, etc. Other times, it can give you a quiet space in truculent moments, and lead you to a level of peace, acceptance, healthy optimism, that I will never tire of recommending it.Never stop reading, there are no excuses ... there are always some minutes in any place, at any time and a huge universe for all tastes !!!
I thought I appreciated books, but this was an alter to the book gods. It was hard not to be impressed. I didn't know what had the most impact: the rosewood shelving, the rolling library ladders, the mezzanine floor with the ornate spiral wrought-iron staircases at each end, the carved moldings, the scent of well-loved books, or the silky Aubusson rugs in a soft faded palette of rose, sage and aqua.