A large, still book is a piece of quietness, succulent and nourishing in a noisy world, which I approach and imbibe with "a sort of greedy enjoyment," as Marcel Proust said of those rooms of his old home whose air was "saturated with the bouquet of silence."

The poor are the only consistent altruists; they sell all they have and give it to the rich.

A large, still book is a piece of quietness, succulent and nourishing in a noisy world, which I approach and imbibe with "a sort of greedy enjoyment," as Marcel Proust said of those rooms of his old home whose air was "saturated with the bouquet of silence."

Great books conserve time.

Fear of corrupting the mind of the younger generation is the loftiest form of cowardice.

History proves there is no better advertisement for a book than to condemn it for obscenity.

A good book is always on tap; it may be decanted and drunk a hundred times, and it is still there for further imbibement.