In books I find the dead as if they were alive; in books I foresee things to come; in books warlike affairs are set forth; from books come forth the laws of peace. All things are corrupted and decay in time; Saturn ceases not to devour the children that he generates; all the glory of the world would be buried in oblivion, unless God had provided mortals with the remedy of books.

All the glory of the world would be buried in oblivion, unless God had provided mortals with the remedy of books.

You, O Books, are the golden vessels of the temple, the arms of the clerical militia with which the missiles of the most wicked are destroyed; fruitful olives, vines of Engaddi, fig-trees knowing no sterility; burning lamps to be ever held in the hand.

The library...of wisdom is more precious than all riches, and nothing that can be wished for is worthy to be compared with it. Whosoever therefore acknowledges himself to be a zealous follower of truth, of happiness, of wisdom, of science, or even of faith, must of necessity make himself a lover of books.

Books alone are liberal and free; they give to all who ask; they emancipate all who serve them faithfully.

A library of wisdom, then, is more precious than all wealth, and all things that are desirable cannot be compared to it.

Books appear to be the most immediate instruments of speculative delight.