“A book, a book full of human touches, of shirts, a book without loneliness, with men and tools, a book is victory.”

Perhaps the earth can teach us As when everything seems dead And later proves to be alive.

Hate is like a swordfish, working through water invisibly and then you see it coming with blood along its blade, but transparency disarms it.

In the eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.”

Love is not about property, diamonds and gifts. It is about sharing your very self with the world around you.

The hardest way of learning is that of easy reading; but a great book that comes from a great thinker is a ship of thought, deep freighted with truth and beauty.

All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are.

And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.

Every day you play with the light of the universe.

I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.

Today is today, and yesterday is gone. There is no doubt.

But from each crime are born bullets that will one day seek out in you where the heart lies.

I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

Love has to be flowering like the stars, and measureless as a kiss.

You are like night, calmed, constellated. Your silence is star-like, as distant, as true.

Then love knew it was called love. And when I lifted my eyes to your name, suddenly your heart showed me my way.

In love, you have loosened yourself like seawater.

I have sold more books on physics than Madonna has on sex.

The best books are those that tell you what you know already.

Politics is not a bad profession. If you succeed there are many rewards, if you disgrace yourself you can always write a book.

If my books can help children become readers then I feel I have accomplished something important.

I always take time to read, and try to read at least one book per week!

The books transported her into new worlds and introduced her to amazing people who lived exciting lives.

He never went out without a book under his arm, and he often came back with two.

It has always been a happy thought to me that the creek runs on all night, new every minute, whether I wish it or know it or care, as a closed book on a shelf continues to whisper to itself its own inexhaustible tale.