The books that everybody admires are those that nobody reads.
quote by Anatole France
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Related quotes
Censorship ends in logical completeness when nobody is allowed to read any books except the books that nobody reads.
quote by George Bernard Shaw
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The wise man reads both books and life itself.
quote by Lin Yutang
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Oh, I think every author is inspired by all of the books that she reads.
quote by Cornelia Funke
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If we encounter a man of rare intellect, we should ask him what books he reads.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
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And Michael likes to read a lot. People don't realize that about him but he reads a number of books per week and he's fascinated just about every subject.
quote by David Gest
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Hero Blues
by Bob Dylan
Yes, the gal I got
I swear she's the screaming end
She wants me to be a hero
So she can tell all her friends
Well, she begged, she cried
She pleaded with me all last night
Well, she begged, she cried
She pleaded with me all last night
She wants me to go out
And find somebody to fight
She reads too many books
She got new movies inside her head
She reads too many books
She got movies inside her head
She wants me to walk out running
She wants me to crawl back dead
You need a different kinda man, babe
One that can grab and hold your heart
Need a different kind of man, babe
One that can hold and grab your heart
You need a different kind of man, babe
You need Napoleon Boneeparte
Well, when I'm dead
No more good times will I crave
When I'm dead
No more good times will I crave
You can stand and shout hero
All over my lonesome grave
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
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Books of a Reader and Drinker
The library of books to do with life are great,
Inside them we discover a whole new story.
Their covers are as hard to swallow as fish,
Meeting a drinker dissolves your hatred of reading.
The drinker is a drunkard of the odd variety,
He reads like an angel when his wings number many,
But then they shed due to drink, and the beer has departed.
For this reading composes the mind,
The books of ancient nature fall from the shelves,
They burn by the dozen and leave us with true knowledge.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Five Lines
To overcome lies in the heart, in the streets, in the books
from the lullabies of the mothers
to the news report that the speaker reads,
understanding, my love, what a great joy it is,
to understand what is gone and what is on the way.
poem by Nazim Hikmet
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Dad and Me
Inside our house you'll find crannies and nooks.
Crevices and cracks and fissures and books!
Books under the bed and on the floor,
Books around the table and beside the door,
Books on the bookshelf and surrounding it,
Books all over the house, every single bit!
Not a one of these books are non-fiction,
Different worlds are their depiction.
Fictional, sci-fi, dark and fantasy,
Horror and happy, more books for me!
Books belonging to my father,
Or belonging to me as I rather.
My father and I in bookworm heaven,
Until mum cleans up around half past seven.
She throws the books in a huff,
Says it's a mess and to clean it up!
Well dad and I try to clean,
But on the work we quickly wean
And in one of the larger nooks
You'll find dad and me reading our books.
poem by Lenore Lee
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Schools and libraries are the twin cornerstones of a civilized society. Libraries are only good if people use them, like books only exist when someone reads them.
quote by Nicholas Meyer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The man who reads nothing at all is better educated than the man who reads nothing but newspapers.
quote by Thomas Jefferson
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Differences
My neighbor lives on the hill,
And I in the valley dwell,
My neighbor must look down on me,
Must I look up?--ah, well,
My neighbor lives on the hill,
And I in the valley dwell.
My neighbor reads, and prays,
And I--I laugh, God wot,
And sing like a bird when the grass is green
In my small garden plot;
But ah, he reads and prays,
And I--I laugh, God wot.
His face is a book of woe,
And mine is a song of glee;
A slave he is to the great 'They say,'
But I--I am bold and free;
No wonder he smacks of woe,
And I have the tang of glee.
My neighbor thinks me a fool,
'The same to yourself,' say I;
'Why take your books and take your prayers,
Give me the open sky;'
My neighbor thinks me a fool,
'The same to yourself,' say I.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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When today's generation reads Jack's books or they listen to the music created by some of us, I believe that they see there is a different way of approaching today's life and today's sometimes seeming hopelessness that can provide answers.
quote by David Amram
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The first lesson of life on Mother's lap!
*How sad my poor Mom pawned her earrings for my books and she replaced some cloves on her earlobe?
Poor Mother is an Autumn in the chilly Winter.
That warmth you never get anywhere?
She reads a passage from the book of life
Keeping me as a soft toy on her lap.
'Hey! My little rascal what you see in the books?
One day you have to be there and see from your visual eye.
Mountains, Seas, Rivers, Brooks, Streams
Caves, Animals, Real human and else!
I remember one full Moon day she asked;
'What's your intension Johnny? '
I said that I want to be a Pilot!
Then she said with a wry smile;
'Somehow that's good, but what you gain from the barren sky?
Try to be a Skin Diver if possible at least you could see the hidden treasure at the mysterious bottom of the Ocean! '
Humbly to all Mothers in the World!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Read, Make understand & move towards yourself
God is infinite and his powers are infinite.
Everyone who reads and writes about him, only gives the reference of their mind.
Mind is changeable and what is the use to give reference of changeable things.
And it is also known that Mind never becomes of yourself.
Knowledge given by your senses is called your mind.
By means of reading some books written by famous and intelligent wirter, you got the verification of mind.
By means of some holy books, you become like a holy person.
By this, education and religion are tied in words.
Education is necessary to live simple life.
poem by sufi mohan seth Aggarwal
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No one comes.
No one comes.
No one reads.
I feel no sense I'm so displeased.
A worthjess speck of dust you see,
an annoyance here, my heart does bleed.
So what's the point my dear?
Nobody cares not even you I fear.
No one comes
and no one reads.
An invisible being that no one needs.
poem by Michael McParland
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I Know I Have A Copy Somewhere
Wherever you may choose to look
You're guaranteed to find a book.
Perhaps a murder mystery.
Anthologies of poetry
Reference books and picture books.
Books on witchcraft and black magic
Tomes on almost any topic.
Some by authors long since dead.
Books which try to look ahead.
Books of every shape and size.
As I have come to realise.
Enough to start a library
Though jumbled up haphazardly.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Wife
My husband is idle, is dumb and spends money.
He either stands still at the window or runs about town like a bunny.
He stares and he stares, at a tram, at the sky.
He mutters, he whistles: he rummages over the house like an amateur spy.
And then he reads books: he turns their pages at least.
There are books in the kitchen and cellar; folios mixed with the yeast.
But what is he thinking about? what does my husband mumble?
When he tries to speak he gets nervous: piles of words flurry and tumble.
In the evening he drinks, and I feel angry enough
When I see his dear eyes getting misted up with that stuff.
His eyes are misted. He takes one more dram.
He kneels down beside me and lays his head on my arm.
It is only then that I learn for the first time who I am.
poem by Julian Tuwim
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