All cities are mad: but the madness is gallant. All cities are beautiful: but the beauty is grim.
Christopher MorleyRead
There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love.
Interpretation
A true book has a unique essence, much like the feeling of falling in love.
This quote emphasizes the profound and unmistakable connection one feels when encountering a genuine book, similar to the intense emotions of falling in love. It suggests that both experiences evoke strong feelings that are instantly recognized, highlighting the deep emotional impact of literature on our lives.
In practice
This quote could be shared during a book club meeting to spark a discussion about the emotional connections we have with stories.
All cities are mad: but the madness is gallant. All cities are beautiful: but the beauty is grim.
Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to continually be part of unanimity.
When you sell a man a book you don't sell just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue - you sell him a whole new life. Love and friendship and humour and ships at sea by night - there's all heaven and earth in a book, a real book.
When you sell a man a book, you don't sell him 12 ounces of paper and ink and glue - you sell him a whole new life.
Living in a bookshop is like living in a warehouse of explosives. Those shelves are ranked with the most furious combustibles in the world--the brains of men.
Between ourselves, there is no such thing, abstractly, as a 'good' book. A book is 'good' only when it meets some human hunger or refutes some human error.
Love measures our stature: the more we love, the bigger we are.
Love is a human experience, not a political statement.
Medicine, you see, is my first love; whether I write fiction or nonfiction, and even when it has nothing to do with medicine, it's still about medicine. After all, what is medicine but life plus? So I write about life.
Gentle, soft dream, nestling in my arms now, you will fly, too, as your sisters have all fled before you: but kiss me before you go--embrace me, Jane.
So the lover must struggle for words.
A wise girl kisses but doesn't love, listens but doesn't believe, and leaves before she is left.
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