Posts tagged Fiction

booklover: Book Love (by Martina~)

booklover:

Book Love (by Martina~)

littledallilasbookshelf:

The Last Bookstore, San Francisco, CA

The Old Town Bookshop | Edinburgh

The Old Town Bookshop | Edinburgh

amandaonwriting

Always be reading.

Always be reading.

i-n-s-t-a-u-r-a-d-o

We would be worse than we are without the good books we have read, more conformist, not as restless, more submissive, and the critical spirit, the engine of progress, would not even exist. Like writing, reading is a protest against the insufficiencies of life. When we look in fiction for what is missing in life, we are saying, with no need to say it or even to know it, that life as it is does not satisfy our thirst for the absolute – the foundation of the human condition – and should be better. We invent fictions in order to live somehow the many lives we would like to lead when we barely have one at our disposal.
Mario Vargas Llosa

Daunt Books in London. I’ve got to visit this shop someday.

I like best to have one book in my hand, and a stack of others on the floor beside me, so as to know the supply of poppy and mandragora will not run out before the small hours.
Dorothy Parker; The Collected Dorothy Parker
robotmonkeys-net: “The library of the monastery of St. Florian in Upper Austria. It is a baroque jewel, and includes about 140,000 volumes. In the library are many valuable medieval manuscripts and early printed books.” de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stift_Sankt_Florian Bibliothek in St. Florian by dorena-wm http://flic.kr/p/8mpTfv

robotmonkeys-net:

“The library of the monastery of St. Florian in Upper Austria. It is a baroque jewel, and includes about 140,000 volumes. In the library are many valuable medieval manuscripts and early printed books.” de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stift_Sankt_Florian

Bibliothek in St. Florian by dorena-wm http://flic.kr/p/8mpTfv

theparisreview: “Beauty, the world seemed to say. And as if to prove it (scientifically) wherever he looked at the houses, at the railings, at the antelopes stretching over the palings, beauty sprang instantly. To watch a leaf quivering in the rush of air was an exquisite joy. Up in the sky swallows swooping, swerving, flinging themselves in and out, round and round, yet always with perfect control as if elastics held them; and the flies rising and falling; and the sun spotting now this leaf, now that, in mockery, dazzling it with soft gold in pure good temper; and now again some chime (it might be a motor horn) tinkling divinely on the grass stalks—all of this, calm and reasonable as it was, made out of ordinary things as it was, was the truth now; beauty, that was the truth now. Beauty was everywhere.”―Virginia Woolf, “Mrs. Dalloway,” published on this day in 1925

theparisreview:

“Beauty, the world seemed to say. And as if to prove it (scientifically) wherever he looked at the houses, at the railings, at the antelopes stretching over the palings, beauty sprang instantly. To watch a leaf quivering in the rush of air was an exquisite joy. Up in the sky swallows swooping, swerving, flinging themselves in and out, round and round, yet always with perfect control as if elastics held them; and the flies rising and falling; and the sun spotting now this leaf, now that, in mockery, dazzling it with soft gold in pure good temper; and now again some chime (it might be a motor horn) tinkling divinely on the grass stalks—all of this, calm and reasonable as it was, made out of ordinary things as it was, was the truth now; beauty, that was the truth now. Beauty was everywhere.”

―Virginia Woolf, “Mrs. Dalloway,” published on this day in 1925

A little piece of heaven.

A little piece of heaven.

Flickr / rightreading

I just want to hang out at this place for a few hours.

I just want to hang out at this place for a few hours.

mellifluousbookshelf

Writing is like hunting. There are brutally cold afternoons with nothing in sight, only the wind and your breaking heart. Then the moment when you bag something big. The entire process is beyond intoxicating.
Kate Braverman

Machina Analytica: “For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to...

machina-analytica:

“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope…

psych-facts: More here

psych-facts:

More here

psych-facts

A capacity, and taste, for reading, gives access to whatever has already been discovered by others. It is the key, or one of the keys, to the already solved problems. And not only so. It gives a relish, and facility, for successfully pursuing the [yet] unsolved ones.
Abraham Lincoln