1. (Source: urbnite, via aquieterstorm)

  2. "Reading brings us unknown friends."
    Honoré de Balzac (via misswallflower)

    Nice explanation of the tumblr book community!

  3. "Libraries will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no libraries."
    Anne Herbert (via duttonbooks)

    (via prettybooks)

  4. harleyfix:

There are few things in this world that I love more than black coffee and the words of Henry David Thoreau.

    harleyfix:

    There are few things in this world that I love more than black coffee and the words of Henry David Thoreau.

    (via prettybooks)

  5. bookpatrol:

The Reader by Wyndham Lewis, 1936
Lives here

    bookpatrol:

    The Reader by Wyndham Lewis, 1936

    Lives here

    (via bookporn)

  6. starry-eyed-wolfchild:

    The Old Butcher’s Bookshop, Paris

    (Source: messynessychic.com, via whisperingteacups)

  7. bewarethebibliophilia:

    Lovely Penguin paperback spines, ca. 1963–64.

    (via aquieterstorm)

  8. musingsofabookwerm:

    My jaunt in Daunt Bookstore this afternoon

    (via bookporn)

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)



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! :)