There are two motives for reading a book; one, that you enjoy it; the other, that you can boast about it.
Books are the perfect entertainment: no commercials, no batteries, hours of enjoyment for each dollar spent. What I wonder is why everybody doesn't carry a book around for those inevitable dead spots in life.
The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.
Books may well be the only true magic.
So, please, oh please, we beg, we pray, go throw your TV set away, and in its place you can install, a lovely bookcase on the wall.
Many people, myself among them, feel better at the mere sight of a book.
There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.
Think before you speak. Read before you think.
Reading was my escape and my comfort, my consolation, my stimulant of choice: reading for the pure pleasure of it, for the beautiful stillness that surrounds you when you hear an author's words reverberating in your head.
Good books don't give up all their secrets at once.