Reading Quotes

Claire nodded in understanding.

“Now,” Goninan said, imagine a book that literally is different for each person who reads it.”

Janey frowned. “Do you men that the story I’m reading in…”

I ask all her friends to encourage her to tell them of her doings, and to manifest as much curiosity and pleasure in her little adventures as they possibly can. This gratifies the child’s love of approbation and keeps up her interest in things. This is the basis of real intercourse. She makes many mistakes, of course, twists words and phrases, puts the cart before the horse, and gets herself into hopeless tangles of nouns and verbs; but so does the hearing child.

Pure modernity of form is always somewhat vulgarising. It cannot help being so. The public imagine that, because they are interested in their immediate surroundings, Art should be interested in them also, and should take…

To read and be conscious of the act of reading is for some men (the writer among them) to suffer. I loathe the operation. My eyes are geared for the horizon. Nevertheless I do read for days on end when I have caught the…

“Have you read ‘Blood on the Banisters’?”

“Oh, yes! I thought it was better than ‘Severed Throats’.”

“So did I,” said Cyril. “Much better. Brighter murderers, subtler detectives, crisper clues… better in every way…”

There are probably words addressed to our condition exactly, which, if we could really hear and understand, would be more salutary than the morning or the spring to our lives, and possibly put a new aspect on the face of…

Then fill the shelves with lots of books,

Ignoring all the dirty looks,

The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,

And children hitting you with sticks…

People that like to read are always a little fucked up. Let’s haul her out of here tomorrow and take her back down to Colleton. I’ll put her to work on the shrimp boat. The salt air will clear her…

We went out to the pump-house, and I made Helen hold her mug under the spout while I pumped. As the cold water gushed forth, filling the mug, I spelled “w-a-t-e-r” in Helen’s free hand. The word coming so close upon the sensation of cold water rushing over her hand seemed to startle her. She dropped the…

It was evident that she recognized the dog, for she put her arms round her neck and squeezed her. Then Helen sat down by her and began to manipulate her claws. We couldn’t think for a second what she was doing, but when we saw her make the letters “d-o-l-l” on her own fingers, we knew that she was trying to teach…