No book can be appreciated until it has been slept with and dreamed over.
The biggest fish he ever caught were those that got away.
Here we have a baby. It is composed of a bald head and a pair of lungs.
But I, when I undress me Each night, upon my knees Will ask the Lord to bless me With apple-pie and cheese.
Not so, however, with books, for books cannot change. A thousand years hence they are what you find them to-day, speaking the same words, holding forth the same cheer, the same promise, the same comfort; always constant, laughing with those who laugh and weeping with those who weep.
Books do actually consume air and exhale perfumes.