Not all books are created equally, but, all books are created.

I love staring at my books for hours just trying to decide which book to read next. Doing that is almost as fun as actually reading them.

Authors: The only people you thank for leaving you emotionally devastated.

Please take note that any and all dragon petting will be at your own peril. We are not liable for any injuries sustained while petting.

Lost: The common sense of an unconventional dreamer. If found, please return to Love The Stacks.

Learning new things exercises the brain in such a titillating way.

Authors are but the instrument to be played. The art is inside them, but many people help create it.

Books have a complete disregard for your feelings. They don't care if you are crying. They are going to continue making you cry.

You could say we run a dating service. If you make a request, we can hook you up with some books that will take you on a date you will never forget.

You could say we run a dating service. If you with some books that will take you on a date you will never forget.

Reading great books always gives me the worst sleeping disorders.

Only someone you loved could make you wear that kind of expression. Someone who had once loved you knew how to get to the part of you where the pain lived.

Re-colonizing it and sort of reverse-colonizing it to the point that today the national dish of Great Britain is Chicken Tikka Masala.

After September 11th, freedom of speech in America has become a topic that's touchier than a Vatican summer camp.

A human being does not cease to exist at death. It is change, not destruction, which takes place.

It is not that people are evil or greedy. The conditions that socially support the system force us to behave in socially offensive ways.

Politeness makes one appear outwardly as they should be within.

In this Revolution no plans have been written for retreat.

Management is not a science, it is an art.

Just as I suspected, my room does look different, post-eclipse. It looks smalled, like it can't contain me anymore. After all, I've got a whole new world to see.

From out the throng and stress of lies, From out the painful noise of sighs, One voice of comfort seems to rise: "It is the meaner part that dies."