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Clutching Books
Read the Printed Word!

“Look, I'm not an intellectual - I just take pictures.” ~Helmut Newton

Let books be your dining table,
And you shall be full of delights
Let them be your mattress
And you shall sleep restful nights.
~Author Unknown


Jonah Mae | 21 | struggling writer| novelist wannabe| bookworm

Children don’t read ‘genres’; they read stories. Below a certain age, they don’t distinguish between ‘true’ and ‘not true,’ because they see no reason that a white rabbit shouldn’t possess a pocket watch, that whales shouldn’t talk, or that sentient beings shouldn’t live on other planets and travel in spaceships. Science-fiction tropes aren’t read as ‘science fiction’; they’re read as fiction. And fiction is read as reality. And sometimes reality lives under the bed and has very large teeth, and it’s no use pretending otherwise.

Margaret Atwood, The New Yorker, June 4 & 11, 2012 (via booksandhotchocolate)

bookmania:

Greenlight Bookstore at Brooklyn, NYC (via meyemory)

bookmania:

Greenlight Bookstore at Brooklyn, NYC (via meyemory)

lindasinklings:

Fill your house with stacks of books, in all the crannies and all the nooks.

— Dr Seuss 

Damn, it’s such a cliché, but the best books feel like little private secrets between me and the author. Little love affairs. Ways of staving off loneliness and despair, of connecting to another human being on the most intimate level without actually meeting in person.

Elizabeth Ellen (via mttbll)

oldblueeyes:

Books break the shackles of time. (x)

noseinabook:

Me on the first day of school, 1996. 

noseinabook:

Me on the first day of school, 1996. 


“What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculties! In form and moving, how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?”
―William Shakespeare, Hamlet

“What a piece of work is a man!
How noble in reason! How infinite in faculties!
In form and moving, how express and admirable!
In action how like an angel!
In apprehension how like a god!
The beauty of the world!
The paragon of animals!
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?”

William Shakespeare, Hamlet