1. wordpainting:

Corner books

    wordpainting:

    Corner books

    (Source: libres-co)

    1. 3bduo8 reblogged this from yasminetarek
    2. anooossh reblogged this from soom77
    3. soom77 reblogged this from osa-f
    4. osa-f reblogged this from aljood055
    5. notoneofthegirlsss reblogged this from epiphanytale
    6. munameeanmia reblogged this from qhtaninf
    7. qhtaninf reblogged this from suhaqa
    8. suhaqa reblogged this from alanoudis
    9. shougalrjeay reblogged this from alanoudis
    10. sprinkle-joy reblogged this from epiphanytale
    11. abrarxx reblogged this from rm-s3d
    12. rm-s3d reblogged this from alanoudis
    13. mayar98 reblogged this from bright-star-3
    14. jwaiz reblogged this from ezdhar
    15. fatima-holmes reblogged this from eii7
    16. oxygenaa reblogged this from shahad1411
    17. sho00osh55 reblogged this from hn14
    18. saalmarri reblogged this from ezdhar
    19. wesetsailtotheeast reblogged this from dontp-anic
    20. mikaelaglennie reblogged this from dontp-anic
    21. dontp-anic reblogged this from stpdreckless
    22. stpdreckless reblogged this from etch-althani
    23. sa-ra90 reblogged this from hn14
    24. shmnkol reblogged this from theunreliableboo
    25. restlesswanderer95 reblogged this from ruwaa
    26. sarfectious reblogged this from purplee-elephants
    27. amal-2044 reblogged this from ezdhar
    28. alpish reblogged this from alanoudis
    29. f-aldossry reblogged this from bellaesolitaria
    30. itsmshyo reblogged this from purplee-elephants
    31. hanouph reblogged this from purplee-elephants
    32. jameelagh reblogged this from herheart-was-asecretgarden

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! :)