1. "It is difficult for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs."
    Thomas Hardy, Far from the Madding Crowd (via misswallflower)
  2. "This is all you have to do. Sit down once a day to the novel and start working without internal criticism, without debilitating expectations, without the need to look at your words as if they were already printed and bound.
    The beginning is only a draft. Drafts are imperfect by definition."
    Walter Mosley (via planb-becomeapirate)

    (Source: writingquotes, via ilovereadingandwriting)

  3. teachingliteracy:

Many books (by daynoir)

    teachingliteracy:

    Many books (by daynoir)

    (via prettybooks)

  4. 
Not For Sale - A Trip To Paris Series by Echam Dikya Dzara 
  5. "Reading is that fruitful miracle of a communication in the midst of solitude"
    Marcel Proust (via rulesofearth)

    (via ifthecreekdontrise)

  6. 
Shakespeare and Company by Mark Dodge Medlin 
  7. Ok, admit it … This time you didn’t even notice the books …

    Ok, admit it … This time you didn’t even notice the books …

    (Source: airows, via whimsicaljanne)

About

Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing. (Harper Lee)

I nearly always write, just as I nearly always breathe.
(John Steinbeck)

When I don’t write, I feel my world shrinking. I feel I am in a prison. I feel I lose my fire and my color. It should be a necessity, as the sea needs to heave, and I call it breathing.
(Anaïs Nin)

With my eyes closed, I would touch a familiar book and draw its fragrance deep inside me. This was enough to make me happy.
(Haruki Murakami)

I stepped into the bookshop and breathed in that perfume of paper and magic that strangely no one had ever thought of bottling.
(Carlos Ruiz Zafón)

He loved a book because it was a book; he loved its odor, its form, its title. What he loved in a manuscript was its old illegible date, the bizarre and strange Gothic characters, the heavy gilding which loaded its drawings. It was its pages covered with dust — dust of which he breathed the sweet and tender perfume with delight.
(Gustave Flaubert)

I whispered the thrilling words to myself, then lifted the book to my nose and breathed the ink from its pages. The scent of possibilities.
(Kate Morton)

This is how you read a novel: you inhale the experience. So start breathing.
(Azar Nafisi)



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ifyougiveachildabook.tumblr.com

Contributor: womenreading.tumblr.com


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