...Come home, Bod.' ‘I think . . . I said things to Silas. He’ll be angry.’ ‘If he didn’t care about you, you couldn’t upset him,’ was all she said.
Name the different kinds of people,’ said Miss Lupescu. ‘Now.’ Bod thought for a moment. ‘The living,’ he said. ‘Er. The dead.’ He stopped. Then, ‘... Cats?’ he offered, uncertainly.
I think . . . I said things to Silas. He'll be angry.' 'If he didn't care about you, you couldn't upset him,' was all she said.
...what distinguishes pulp fiction from great literature is how emphatically the work challenges us to interpret it.
You're alive, Bod. That means you have infinite potential. You can do anything, make anything, dream anything. If you change the world, the world will change.
One of the things I have come up against time and again in my career is the notion that because a book is easy to read it was somehow easy to .
Books; I repeat, for they've not only been a solace during the long years but also provided the keys to understanding other people's ideas and achievements, their hopes and fears, quirks and foibles, their dreams.....their demons
The three rules of the Librarians of Time and Space are: 1) Silence; 2) Books must be returned no later than the last date shown; and 3) Do not interfere with the nature of causality.
When at last I came upon the right book, the feeling was violent: it blew open a hole in me that made life more dangerous because I couldn't control what came through it.
Fire is a speed reader, which is why the ignorant burn books: fire races through pages, takes care of all the knowledge, and never bores you with a summary.
I will be me, when world aberrantly will feel, my gravity! I will turn into my, when their shrill cry will stop asking why! (Poem:Because you so wanna meet me, Book: Ginger and Honey)
How could it be that I wanted those scary narrow streets and books and coffee shops for her so much more than she wanted them for herself?
People need stories...we use stories to teach, to learn, to make sense of the world around us. As long as we need stories, we will need books.
I have had a lot of readers of my book tell me that they like it, but so far only two reviews have been listed. Could you help?
Perhaps there is some secret sort of homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers. How delightful if that were true.
I booked a table for two at a five-star restaurant. Rebecca couldn’t make it, because at the last minute I backed out of asking her.
Your good friends can write a book on you; but Your best friends can create an embarrassing full fledged 3 hours movie on you, with silliest jingles and animation made ever.
For me, taking the sort of dry principles of the law and bringing them into contact with human beings . . . it's like you jump into hyperspace. And everything that's dull about the books and the theory becomes provocative.
I was a lonely boy. I spent all my time reading books and watching the world. [some] tried to draw me out at first, but their hearts weren't in it. And after all, they had enough troubles of their own.
The more a book is like an opium pipe, the more the Chinaman reader is satisfied with it and tends to discuss the quality of the drug rather than its lethargic effects.
To be left with only the trace of a memory is to gaze at an armchair that's still molded to the form of a love who has left never to return: It is to grieve, dear reader, it is to weep.
