1. booklover: charmingages:(via floralandlace)

    booklover:

    charmingages:(via floralandlace)

    • 2 years ago
    • 142 notes
    1. wholehalfthird reblogged this from rominatrix
    2. thehighwayroadtrip reblogged this from booklover and added:
      I think it’s high time that i find something comparable to Devon scones. It’s been 4 years, nothing yet.
    3. bisonte reblogged this from booklover
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    13. sprinklecake reblogged this from booklover and added:
      Mmmm.
    14. simplicia reblogged this from and-see-she-flies
    15. hillaryfaith reblogged this from booklover and added:
      i need a tea party…IMMEDIATELY.
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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)



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