1. lifeofliterature:

Thursday, July 16 3:49 PM All I need is a moment (by Chessiekitty)

    lifeofliterature:

    Thursday, July 16 3:49 PM All I need is a moment (by Chessiekitty)

  2. Happy Birthday, Papa.

    Happy Birthday, Papa.

  3. Just ordered :)

    Just ordered :)

  4. "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast."
    Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast (via bookoasis)

    (via bookoasis-deactivated20120227)

  5. heartbeatoz:

(via Annaleenas HOME, Pure Home Decor and inspiration!)
  6. bookoasis:

(by mirkl)
  7. firwave:

One of the many small #Maine #libraries. (Taken with instagram)

    firwave:

    One of the many small #Maine #libraries. (Taken with instagram)

    (via petrichorpress)

  8. bookoasis:

“Often a man wishes to be alone and a girl wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others … But we were never lonely and never afraid when we were together. I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started. But with Catherine there was almost no difference in the night except that it was an even better time.”
— Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell To Arms
(Photo by Tom Airey)

    bookoasis:

    “Often a man wishes to be alone and a girl wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others … But we were never lonely and never afraid when we were together. I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started. But with Catherine there was almost no difference in the night except that it was an even better time.”

    — Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell To Arms

    (Photo by Tom Airey)

    (via bookoasis-deactivated20120227)

  9. bookoasis:

Librairie La Page, French bookshop in London
(Photo:yvescosentino)

    bookoasis:

    Librairie La Page, French bookshop in London

    (Photo:yvescosentino)

    (via excessivebookshelf)

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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