Related quotes: Books are like imprisoned souls...

Books are like imprisoned souls till someone takes them down from a shelf and frees them.

quote by Samuel Butler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes

The Poet's Significant Other - for Mary and Todd

On the shelf above the crackling fire,
the day’s work over, shadows swaying and flickering
across the room, in the firelight’s glow;
here is love abiding

On the shelf above the crackling fire
a few slim books, some of them poetry, some of them signed;
open them and the world spills out
tumbles laughing and crying, shouting
like children home from school with stories;
like grandparents reminiscing over photos with a smile;
like the last of the night’s pillow talk
one already eyes closed, the other treasuring thought

On the shelf above the crackling fire
two bookends hold the books in place
pressing lightly against each other
as two lovers walking through a door, a gate, from here to there
one bookend’s image we know well
familiar to us from the books

How little we know, of that other bookend
without which, without whom,
there might not be these books, lightly pressing
on the shelf above love’s glow

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Imprisonment

#Imprisonment

You are imprisoned in the house;
I could see you without a visit.
You are imprisoned in clothes;
I could guess you without a vision.
You are imprisoned in virtue;
I could gaze at you without a touch.
Having been imprisoned,
You have imprisoned me.
22.09.2005

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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All of us can think of a book... that we hope none of our children have taken off the shelf. But if I have the right to remove that book from the shelf -that work I abhor- then you also have exactly the same right and so does everyone else. And then we have no books left on the shelf for any of us.

quote by Katherine Paterson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The afterthought

The afterthought
~
The poetry section in the library, an afterthought
A little over fifteen books thrown onto a shelf
Amongst books of quotations and how to write
Books about books and sporting anecdotes
It seems poetry here is consigned to obscurity
A disappointing assessment of literature
A few of the named greats, a few anthologies
The favourite love poems, poems on war
A three quarter shelf collection if at all
Perhaps it’s a sign of the times changing
Modern life being unable to relate anymore
To the notions and thoughts of poetic lore
The pace picked up so long ago
The gentle stroll now a sprinting run
No more stopping to smell the air
The need to be someplace doing something
Everything else consigned to the shelf
Like a mirror reflecting the new world
The poetry of life has become an afterthought

poem by Matthew Holloway
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Cries from the Cage!

We are but the captive Birds
Craving for consoling words
Our own Garden,
The orchard of Heaven
Is made our cage
The perennial prison,
for nothing
but
a fake reason;
The glowing,
rising sun is captive,
imprisoned are the moon and stars.
You gave us food
and things to eat,
but cut the feathers,
bound the feet.
Our soil is pure
like a martyr's blood.
Our feelings are in deadly flood.
Round the clock we raise this slogan:
freedom, freedom-
It's a cry of souls imprisoned,
But souls awakened,
Hoping that one day
We'll be able
To tear down the veil
between our cry and the sky...

poem by Shahzia Batool
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Book Borrower

I am a mild man, you'll agree,
But red my rage is,
When folks who borrow books from me
Turn down their pages.

Or when a chap a book I lend,
And find he's loaned it
Without permission to a friend -
As if he owned it.

But worst of all I hate those crooks
(May hell-fires burn them!)
Who beg the loan of cherished books
And don't return them.

My books are tendrils of myself
No shears can sever . . .
May he who rapes one from its shelf
Be damned forever.

poem by Robert William Service
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God suffers in the multitude of souls whom His word can not reach. Religious truth is imprisoned in a small number of manuscript books which confine instead of spread the public treasure. Let us break the seal which seals up holy things and give wings to Truth in order that she may win every soul that comes into the world by her word no longer written at great expense by hands easily palsied, but multiplied like the wind by an untiring machine.

quote by Johannes Gutenberg
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Four-Foot Shelf

'Come, see,' said he, 'my four-foot shelf,
A forty volume row;
And every one I wrote myself,
But that, of course, you know.'
I stared, I searched a memory dim,
For though an author too,
Somehow I'd never heard of him,--
None of his books I knew.

Said I: 'I'd like to borrow one,
Fond memories to recall.'
Said he: 'I'll gladly give you some,
And autograph them all.'
And so a dozen books he brought,
And signed tome after tome:
Of course I thanked him quite a lot,
And took them home.

So now I have to read his work,
Though dry as dust it be;
No portion of it may I shirk,
Lest he should question me.
This tale is true,--although it looks
To me a bloody shame,
A guy could father forty books,
yet no one know his name.

poem by Robert William Service
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Life is short

It seems you forgot, our life is short.
There is no time to beg or extort for support.
Learn how to live yourself.
Take a book from the shelf and…
Delicately leafing page after page
you will find a wood sage.
People are like books,
some of them are good,
some of them are bad,
some of them are just mad,
some of them are not sassy,
they look more glassy,
they are not gassy,
they are classy
like books on the shelf
waiting for a warm hand.
Milliards of people are on the Land,
each one needs the right hand
so that to open it like a book and read.
If you manage to do it
you’ll succeed to learn a lot.
Remembering that life is short
you’ll learn how to burn the useless things,
how to leave the one without a gun
who troubles brings,
how to live with those you adore,
And… much much more.

Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Death is not evil, for it frees man from all ills and takes away his desires along with desire's rewards.

quote by Giacomo Leopardi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth Frees

Truth frees!
Like a struggle from a cocoon,
To be butterflied!
To soar with beauty,
In Sun drenched skies.

Truth frees!
And that is seen from once closed eyes.
Freed from a consciousness known to exist,
In limitations condoned...
To magnetize those heartaches.
With fears and pains,
Shared to groan and felt to moan.

Truth frees!
A mind disconnected,
From disrespect and neglect.
To reflect upon rejection,
As tests to produce one's best.
With a satisfaction,
That brings one a peace of mind...
Now one can confess,
Brings one more rest.

Truth frees those who can accept,
Those lessons learned.
And on them can self examine,
A success that has progressed...
From low depths to heights now flown!

Truth frees,
A happiness trapped...
In doubts now lived,
Without comparing sorrows.
As if this is a gift to give!

'Are you a christian, democrat?
Independent or conservative?
Are you liberal or right wing?
Are you a socialist, capitalist...
Or a nonconformist?
With misfit mutterings?

Are you a nationalist,
With a patriotic point of view?
Are you racially inclined?
Exactly...
What are you? '

Truth frees!
Like a struggle from a cocoon,
To be butterflied!
To soar with beauty,
In Sun drenched skies.

Truth frees!

'I see!
You're just another irrational radical.
Attempting to bring attention to yourself.'

Truth frees!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I have a shelf of comfort books, which I read when the world closes in on me or something untoward happens.

quote by Anne McCaffrey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse with superior minds. In the best books, great men talk to us, give us their most precious thoughts, and pour their souls into ours.

quote by William Ellery Channing
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unto my Books—so good to turn

604

Unto my Books—so good to turn—
Far ends of tired Days—
It half endears the Abstinence—
And Pain—is missed—in Praise—

As Flavors—cheer Retarded Guests
With Banquettings to be—
So Spices—stimulate the time
Till my small Library—

It may be Wilderness—without—
Far feet of failing Men—
But Holiday—excludes the night—
And it is Bells—within—

I thank these Kinsmen of the Shelf—
Their Countenances Kid
Enamor—in Prospective—
And satisfy—obtained—

poem by Emily Dickinson
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It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse with superior minds, and these invaluable means of communication are in the reach of all. In the best books, great men talk to us, give us their most precious thoughts, and pour their souls into ours.

quote by William E. Channing
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If Thats What It Takes

Youre the bravest of hearts, youre the strongest of souls
Youre my light in the dark, youre the place I call home
You can say its all right, but I know that youre breaking up inside
I see it in your eyes
Even you face the night afraid and alone
Thats why Ill be there
When the storm rises up, when the shadows descend
Evry beat of my heart, evry day without end
Evry second I live, thats the promise I make
Baby, thats what Ill give, if thats what it takes
If thats what it takes
You can sleep in my arms, you dont have to explain
When your hearts crying out, baby, whisper my name
cause Ive reached out for you when the thunder is crashing up above
Youve given me your love
When your smile like the sun that shines through the pain
Thats why Ill be there
When the storm rises up, when the shadows descend
Evry beat of my heart, evry day without end
I will stand like a rock, I will bend till I break
Till theres no more to give, if thats what it takes
I will risk everything, I will fight, I will bleed
I will lay down my life, if thats what you need
Evry second I live, thats the promise I make
Baby, thats what Ill give, if thats what it takes
Through the wind and the rain, through the smoke and the fire
When the fear rises up, when the waves ever higher
I will lay down my heart, my body, my soul
I will hold on all night and never let go
Evry second I live, thats the promise I make
Baby, thats what Ill give, if thats what it takes
If thats what it takes
Every day
If thats what it takes
Every day

song performed by by Celine Dion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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George Crabbe

Give him the darkest inch your shelf allows,
Hide him in lonely garrets, if you will,—
But his hard, human pulse is throbbing still
With the sure strength that fearless truth endows.
In spite of all fine science disavows,
Of his plain excellence and stubborn skill
There yet remains what fashion cannot kill,
Though years have thinned the laurel from his brows.

Whether or not we read him, we can feel
From time to time the vigor of his name
Against us like a finger for the shame
And emptiness of what our souls reveal
In books that are as altars where we kneel
To consecrate the flicker, not the flame.

poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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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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Test Week

Here comes test week one
There is less time for fun.
Boys are studying hard all day
For them to top in some way.

Some have english first than chemistry
Then physics, maths and history.
They stay up late till twelve 'o' clock
The studying never seems to stop.

For maths, boys practice many sums
And do so well that 'hundred' comes.
Books in the morning, books at night
Books, books, books all the time.

Then comes the end of 'test week one'
Now its time for all the fun.
Nest week inter-house soccer begins
The competitions tough....
....Never know who's going to win!

poem by Varun Pais
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Running Away Doesn't Free

Deciding to come out of hiding,
To run away...
From what's inside,
Kept still denied.
But then...
Why does one keep believing,
Running from something...
Frees.

So many do it thinking...
Running from something frees.
And keep a pace believed...
A running from something frees.
To only feel defeated,
By a running with no relief.
So many do it thinking...
Running from something frees.
And keep a pace believed...
A running from something frees.
To only feel defeated,
By a running with no relief.