Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic. As one tends the graves of the dead, so I tend the books. And every day I open a volume or two, read a few lines or pages, allow the voices of the forgotten dead to resonate inside my head.
reading magic nature kind old-age miracle memories day laws dead open read voices head inside ice ink pages paper forgotten books
I've forgotten most of what I've read and, frankly, it never seemedvery important to me or to the world.
world read important forgotten books
Should he give free reign to his desires, the bibliomaniac can ruin his life along with the lives of his loved ones. He'll often take better care of his books than of his own health; he'll spend more on fiction than he does on food; he'll be more interested in his library than in his relationships, and, since few people are prepared to live in a place where every available surface is covered with piles of books, he'll often find himself alone, perhaps in the company of a neglected and malnourished xat. When he dies, all but forgotten, his body might fester for days before a curious neighbor grows concerned about the smell.
reading health food life people days live libraries body relationships fiction library lives desires care neighbor company find free ruin place smell forgotten books curious give
As one tends to the graves of the dead, so I tend the books. I clean them, do minor repairs, keep them in good order. And every day I open a volume or two, read a few lines or pages, allow the voices of the forgotten dead to resonate inside my head. Do they sense it, these dead writers, when their books are read? Does a pinprick of light appear in their darkness? Is their soul stirred by the feather touch of another mind reading theirs? I do hope so, for it must be very lonely being dead.
reading clean order mind light soul sense good writers darkness day dead open lonely touch read voices head inside pages forgotten hope books
Books should go where they will be most appreciated, and not sit unread, gathering dust on a forgotten shelf, don't you agree?
reading dust forgotten books
Human existence is temporary and all the knowledge of the universe we acquire will in time be forgotten because there will be no humans left to benefit from any of the stuff we learned. And yet, this doesn't invalidate scientific exploration to me. We seek to understand the universe because it makes our lives better and more rich. Similarly, we tell stories (and think about why and how to tell stories) because it makes human existence richer. Made-up stories matter. They bring us pleasure and solace and nurture empathy by letting us see the world through others' eyes. They also help us to feel unalone, to understand that our grief and joy is shared not just by those around us but by all those who came before us and all those still yet to come.
reading literature time human stories existence world humans nurture universe empathy knowledge joy feel lives grief eyes pleasure exploration understand matter rich forgotten left benefit learned books solace
But the more he strained to think, the clearer it became to him that it was undoubtedly so, that he had actually forgotten, overlooked in his life one small circumstance - that death would come and everything would end, that it was not worth starting anything and that nothing could possibly be done about it. Yes, it was terrible, but it was so.
worth life death end starting small forgotten books terrible
Most new books are forgotten within a year, especially by those who borrow them.
forgotten books
A breeze, a forgotten summer, a smile, all can fit into a storefront window.
poetry philosophy literature life wisdom smile poets quotes summer window poetry-quotes dejan-stojanovic literature-quotes the-sun-watches-the-sun forgotten books
Smell is the most powerful trigger to the memory there is. A certain flower, or a a whiff of smoke can bring up experiences long forgotten. Books smell musty and-and-and rich. The knowledge gained from a computer is a - it, uh, it has no no texture, no-no context. It's-it's there and then it's gone. If it's to last, then-then the getting of knowledge should be, uh, tangible, it should be, um, smelly.
memory powerful knowledge senses experiences flower computer smell rich forgotten books smoke
Some books are undeservedly forgotten; none are undeservedly remembered.
quality writing memory appreciation forget forgotten books
I waited for dawn, but only because I had forgotten how hard mornings were. For a second I'd be normal. Then came the dim awareness of something off, out of place. Then the truth came crashing down and that was it for the rest of the day. Sunlight was reproof. Shouldn't I feel better than I had in the dead of night.
truth death rest sadness sorrow loss sad night dawn feel awareness day sunlight grief hard dead place normal mornings forgotten
If Under fell, if Over leaped, If death was life and Death life reaped, Something rises from the gloom, To make the Underland a tombHear it scratching down below, Rat of long forgotten snow, Evil cloaked in coat of White, Will the Warrior drain your light?What could turn the Warrior week?What do burning Gnawers seek?Just a barely speaking pup That holds the Land of Under upDie the baby, die his heartDie his most essential partDie the peace that rules the hour, Gnawers have their key to power
rules key life power peace death light evil warning gloom speaking die snow warrior burning white land essential forgotten baby
The more mental effort he made the clearer he saw that it was undoubtedly so: that he had really forgotten and overlooked one little circumstance in life - that Death would come and end everything, so that it was useless to begin anything, and that there was no help for it, Yes it was terrible but true
effort life death true end anna-karenina mental useless begin made forgotten leo-tolstoy terrible
Search for the stranger inside you, forgotten even by your death.
death search inside forgotten stranger
These are the few ways we can practice humility: To speak as little as possible of one's self. To mind one's own business. Not to want to manage other people's affairs. To avoid curiosity. To accept contradictions and correction cheerfully. To pass over the mistakes of others. To accept insults and injuries. To accept being slighted, forgotten and disliked. To be kind and gentle even under provocation. Never to stand on one's dignity. To choose always the hardest.
mistakes forgiveness gossip kind curiosity insult dignity acceptance humility rejection humble quiet selfish difficulty forgotten dislike injury
There's something about these obscure vignettes of former lives that's very powerful. Our woods are full of old cellar holes, tumbled-down chimneys, ancient scraggly lilacs absurdly tall still stretching toward the light.
history land woods forgotten
Knowing that she loved me, hoping that she loved me, opened some kind of door in my heart. And all the love I'd forgotten or pushed away came flooding back in.
forgotten hope
A lot we have in our head, But things of heart are not yet dead, They have done none, but just fled, Out of us, Forgotten, just been bled.
poetry memory forgotten
I want to believe that memories, even sad and painful ones, should not be forgotten forever.
pain memories sad forever forgotten fruits-basket
Nobody had forgotten anything here. In Berlin, you had to wrestle with the past, you had to build on the ruins, inside them. It wasn't like America where we scraped the earth clean, thinking we could start again every time.
ruins clean past america learn remembering empty forgotten
She existed in her friends; there she was. All the parts of herself she'd forgotten. She knew herself best when she was with them.
friends forgotten
I left the library. Crossing the street, I was hit head-on by a brutal loneliness. I felt dark and hollow. Abandoned, unnoticed, forgotten, I stood on the sidewalk, a nothing, a gatherer of dust. People hurried past me. And everyone who walked by was happier than I. I felt the old envy. I would have given anything to be one of them.
loneliness abandoned forgotten
People always talk about how hard it can be to remember things - where they left their keys, or the name of an acquaintance - but no one ever talks about how much effort we put into forgetting. I am exhausted from the effort to forget.. There are things that have to be forgotten if you want to go on living.
memory memories remembrance forgetting remembering forgotten
I wondered if there would ever be a day when I didn't think about Alaska, wondered whether I should hope for a time when she would be a distant memory - recalled only on the anniversary of her death, or maybe a couple of weeks after, remembering only after having forgotten.
memory remembering forgotten
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