A book, like a landscape, is a state of consciousness varying with readers.

Every now and then we discover in the seething mass of humanity round us a person who does not seem to need anybody else, and the contrast with ourselves is stinging.

Ideas are the root of creation.

Reading, to most people, means an ashamed way of killing time disguised under a dignified name

Whatever we read from intense curiosity gives us a model of how we should always read.

Too often we forget that genius, too, depends upon the data within its reach, that even Archimedes could not have devised Edison's inventions.

The history of the past interests us only in so far as it illuminates the history of the present.