1. lastgiraffe:

Following the Curve of Her Eye by Thomas Hawk on Flickr.
  2. grayskymorning:

(by Clara Román)
  3. bookstorecouture:

double booked (by bradman334)
  4. "Agatha Christie has given more pleasure in bed than any other woman."
    Nancy Banks-Smith
  5. love your blog! =)

    I appreciate that, thanks! :)

  6. fell in love with your blog

    Thanks! :)

  7. Little Golden Books.

    Little Golden Books.

  8. Hey there, fellow bookworm! :) I followed you because of you blog clearly. This is my personal blog about writing/writers and books. I just wanna ask if you know some other blog about writing and books? If you know some please send them to me. I'll gladly follow all of you. :)

    There are so many wonderful  tumblers related to books, reading and writing.   A few of my favorites are:

    www.awritersruminations.tumblr.com

    www.wordpainting.tumblr.com

    www.libraryland.tumblr.com

    www.bookoasis.tumblr.com

    www.womenreading.tumblr.com (I’m a contributor on this one, shameless plug!)

    www.booklover.tumblr.com

    www.thebronzemedal.tumblr.com

    Thanks for following!

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)



My Other Tumblrs: mustanggina.tumblr.com
diaryofadocent.tumblr.com
ifyougiveachildabook.tumblr.com

Contributor: womenreading.tumblr.com


See something you like? Click on the image to see where I found it! :)