What a blessing it is to love books. Everybody must love something, and I know of no objects of love that give such substantial and unfailing returns as books and a garden.

The longer I live the greater is my respect for manure in all its forms.

But it is impossible, I find, to tidy books without ending by sitting on the floor in the middle of a great untidiness and reading.

What a blessing it is to love books.

I would recommend to those persons who are inclined to stagnate, whose blood is beginning to thicken sluggishly in their veins, to try keeping four dogs, two of which are puppies.

if you have once thoroughly bored somebody it is next to impossible to unbore him.

If one believed in angels one would feel that they must love us best when we are asleep and cannot hurt each other; and what a mercy it is that once in every twenty-four hours we are too utterly weary to go on being unkind.