Books As Eternal Messengers

Table of Contents

• Books as Lifesavers and Treasures
• Books as Voices of the Past
• Books as Immortal Entities
• Books Needing Readers to Live
• The Influence and Power of Books
• Books as Connectors Across Time
• Books as Symbols of Knowledge and Memory
• The Relationship Between Books and their Readers
• Other

Books as Lifesavers and Treasurers

The treasures of life is hidden in a book.

The treasures of life are hidden in a book.

Who can say how many lives have been saved by books?

People die, but books never die. No man and no force can abolish memory.

Books and ideas are like blood; they need to circulate, and they keep us alive.

It is said that books save lives, but I also say that empty sketchbooks save lives too. I filled up many, and there is no doubt they saved mine.

I believe that today more than ever a book should be sought after even if it has only one great page in it. We must search for fragments, splinters, toenails, anything that has ore in it, anything that is capable of resuscitating the body and the soul.

Books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a certain potency of life in them, to be as active as the soul whose progeny they are; they preserve, as in a vial, the purest efficacy and extraction of the living intellect that bred them.

Its emptiness is more than the lack of living, breathing beings. It is the unread pages of the many books that reside on the shelves throughout the room I should hot have thought one could tell when books have gone unread, but after the company of Birchwood's well-loved library it is as if I can hear these books whispering, their pages grasping and reaching for an audience.

Books are like imprisoned souls till someone takes them down from a shelf and frees them.

A book is a beautiful, paper mausoleum, or tomb, in which to store ideas... to keep the bones of your thoughts in one place, for all time I just want to say - "Hello. We can hear you. The words survived.

A book is a beautiful, paper mausoleum, or tomb, in which to store ideas... to keep the bones of your thoughts in one place, for all time. I just want to say - "Hello. We can hear you. The words survived.

A book is a beautiful, paper mausoleum, or tomb, in which to store ideas... to keep the bones of your thoughts in one place, for all time. I just want to say... “Hello. We can hear you. The words survived.

Books as Voices of the Past

God be thanked for books! they are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past ages.

Books are the way the dead talk to the living.

God be thanked for books! They are the voices of the distant and the dead.

Books! The chosen depositories of the thoughts, the opinions, and the aspirations of mighty intellects; like wondrous mirrors that have caught and fixed bright images of souls that have passed away; like magic lyres, whose masters have bequeathed them to the world, and which yet, of themselves, ring with unforgotten music, while the hands that touched their chords have crumbled into dust. Books! they are the embodiments and manifestations of departed minds--the living organs through which those who are dead yet speak to us.

Books are the way that we communicate with the dead. The way that we learn lessons from those who are no longer with us, that humanity has built on itself, progressed, made knowledge incremental rather than something that has to be relearned, over and over. There are tales that are older than most countries, tales that have long outlasted the cultures and the buildings in which they were first told.

The Cemetery of Forgotten Books is a metaphor, not just for books but for ideas, for language, for knowledge, for beauty, for all the things that make us human, for collecting memory

The Cemetery of Forgotten Books is a metaphor, not just for books but for ideas, for language, for knowledge, for beauty, for all the things that make us human, for collecting memory.

A book is a dead man, a sort of mummy, embowelled and embalmed, but that once had flesh, and motion, and a boundless variety of determinations and actions.

A book which is left on a shelf is a dead thing but it is also a chrysalis, an inanimate object packed with the potential to burst into new life.

The written word is all that stands between memory and oblivion. Without books as our anchors, we are cast adrift, neither teaching nor learning. They are windows on the past, mirrors on the present, and prisms reflected all possible futures. Books are lighthouses erected on the dark sea of time.

It's amazing that a man who is dead can talk to people through these pages. As long as this books survives, his ideas live.

It’s amazing that a man who is dead can talk to people through these pages. As long as this books survives, his ideas live.

Books are like dragons... if we do not believe in them, and read them, they will cease to exist. How, then, will we learn the language and understand the stories of the dear dead ghosts of the past? Save the Dragons. Speak Dragonese. Read a book.

Books as Immortal Entities

We have preserved the book, and the book has preserved us.

So the hammers of infidels have been pecking away at this book for ages, but the hammers are worn out, and the anvil still endures. If this book had not been the book of God, men would have destroyed it long ago. Emperors and popes, kings and priests, princes and rulers have all tried their hand at it; they die and the book still lives.

As with men, it has always seemed to me that books have their own peculiar destinies. They go towards the people who are waiting for them and reach them at the right moment. They are made of living material and continue to cast light through the darkness long after the death of their authors.

Great books live longer than people.They are gonna bury us all.

People perish. Books are immortal.

Books are the ultimate way for writers to reach immortality.

...a book need never die and should not be killed; books were the immortal part of man.

Books are the true metempsychosis,--they are the symbol and presage of immortality. The dead men are scattered, and none shall find them. Behold they are here! they do but sleep.

Books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them

Most books, like their authors, are born to die; of only a few books can it be said that death has no dominion over them; they live, and their influence lives forever.

Books are our best possessions in life, they are our immortality.

A book is a beautiful, paper mausoleum, or tomb, in which to store ideas...to keep the bones of your thoughts in one place, for all time. I just want to say..."Hello. We can hear you. The words survived.

A book is a beautiful, paper mausoleum, or tomb, in which to store ideas... to keep the bones of your thoughts in one place, for all time. I just want to say... “Hello. We can hear you. The words survived.

The Influence and Power of Books

Perhaps reading and writing books is one of the last defences human dignity has left, because in the end they remind us of what God once reminded us before He too evaporated in this age of relentless humiliations—that we are more than ourselves; that we have souls.

Past and present, it is all the same, books are necromancers, they exercise an influence more varied, more lasting, than any magic known to man.

A recluse without books and ink is already in life a dead man.

A book may lie dormant for fifty years or for two thousand years in a forgotten corner of a library, only to reveal, upon being opened, the marvels or the abysses that it contains, or the line that seems to have been written for me alone. In this respect the writer is not different from any other human being: whatever we say or do can have far-reaching consequences.

Writing books is one of the ways that human beings deal with loss, especially when you don’t have religious consolation available.

Books are not men and yet they are alive.

There is no such thing as a worthless book though there are some far worse than worthless; no book that is not worth preserving, if its existence may be tolerated; as there may be some men whom it may be proper to hang, but none should be suffered to starve.

Books are but waste paper unless we spend in action the wisdom we get from thought - asleep. When we are weary of the living, we may repair to the dead, who have nothing of peevishness, pride, or design in their conversation.

A book is like a large cemetery upon whose tombs one can no longer read the effaced names. On the other hand, sometimes one remembers well the name, without knowing if anything of the being, whose name it was, survives in these pages.

Wow. Death by books. That would have been some way to go.

The man with the most guns survives the zombie apocalypse, but the man with the most books, locks the door and forgets it ever happened.

Some on commission, some for the love of learning, some because they have nothing better to do or because they hope these walls of books will deaden the drumming of the demon in their ears.

Books are for those without real lives, he thought. And they are no real replacement.

Books as Connectors Across Time

Books are the way that we communicate with the dead. The way that we learn lessons from those who are no longer with us, that humanity has built on itself, progressed, made knowledge incremental rather than something that has to be relearned, over and over. There are tales that are older than most countries, tales that have long outlasted the cultures and the buildings in which they were first told.

Books are like imprisoned souls till someone takes them down from a shelf and frees them.

I'm not courting death; I've far too many books left to read.

To a true collector, the acquisition of an old book is its rebirth,” Oscar quoted, absent self-consciousness.

One only makes books in order to keep in touch with one's fellows after one has ceased to breath, and thus to defend oneself against the inexorable fate of all that lives - transitoriness and oblivion.

All my life, books have felt alive; some more so than people, or rather, some people. Alive - this has to do with me, I know, and not the books - in a way that some people aren't. Alive as teachers, alive as minds, alive as imaginative triggers.

A book is still atemporal. It is you, in silence, hearing voices in your head, unfolding at a time that has nothing to do with the timescale of reading. And for the hours that we retreat into this moratorium, with the last form of private and silent human activity that isn't considered pathological, we are outside of time.

Books are never finished, They are merely abandoned.

And our love goes beyond flesh; it transcends Death's reminder. In the Underworld Library, two books sharing a binder

"[...] he made it a rule never to touch a book by any author who had not been dead at least 30 years."That's the only kind of book I can trust", he said."It's not that I don't believe in contemporary literature," he added, "but I don't want to waste valuable time reading any book that has not had the baptism of time. Life is too short."

You who think of us: they lived only in delusion... Know that we the People of the Book, will never die!

I didn't know there was a dying-professor section at the bookstore.

a lot of people have died because they read a book the wrong way

Books as Symbols of Knowledge and Memory

The Cemetery of Forgotten Books is a metaphor, not just for books but for ideas, for language, for knowledge, for beauty, for all the things that make us human, for collecting memory

Books! The chosen depositories of the thoughts, the opinions, and the aspirations of mighty intellects; like wondrous mirrors that have caught and fixed bright images of souls that have passed away; like magic lyres, whose masters have bequeathed them to the world, and which yet, of themselves, ring with unforgotten music, while the hands that touched their chords have crumbled into dust. Books! they are the embodiments and manifestations of departed minds--the living organs through which those who are dead yet speak to us.

Books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a certain potency of life in them, to be as active as the soul whose progeny they are; they preserve, as in a vial, the purest efficacy and extraction of the living intellect that bred them.

Seasoned life of man preserved and stored up in books.

Books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them....I know they are as lively and as vigorously productive as those fabulous dragon's teeth and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men.

The Cemetery of Forgotten Books is a metaphor, not just for books but for ideas, for language, for knowledge, for beauty, for all the things that make us human, for collecting memory.

That is why the ideal literary diet consists of trash and classics; all that has survived, and all that has no reason to survive – books you can read without thinking, and books you have to read if you want to think at all.

A good book is the precious life-blood of a master-spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life, and as such it must surely be a necessary commodity.

A book is a beautiful, paper mausoleum, or tomb, in which to store ideas... to keep the bones of your thoughts in one place, for all time. I just want to say - "Hello. We can hear you. The words survived.

Old books that have ceased to be of service should no more be abandoned than should old friends who have ceased to give pleasure.

In the end, I believe these pages and the Book of Records return to the persistence of this desire: to know the times in which we are alive. To keep the record that must be kept and also, finally, to let it go.

There is no book and your fathers are dead in the ground.

...he made it a rule never to touch a book by any author who had not been dead at least 30 years. "That's the only kind of book I can trust," he said."It's not that I don't believe in contemporary literature," he added, "but I don't want to waste valuable time reading any book that has not had the baptism of time. Life is too short.

The Relationship Between Books and their Readers

Any book that claims to be a book of life and love while demanding absolute obedience is but a book of death and degradation.

Books are left untouched. Fanaticism became our trait.. Now more than ever we let others feed our minds and we became the zombie society walking around without purpose, without care, without vision.

For books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them.

Leisure without books is death, and burial of a man alive.

Books are like dragons....if we do not believe in them, and read them, they will cease to exist. How, then, will we learn the language and understand the stories of the dear dead ghosts of the past? Save the Dragons. Speak Dragonese. Read a book.

Great leaders die empty. They live to offload everything they put in them! Don’t die with your books in your mind unpublished!

Books are voices somewhere between life and death.

In our fathers' time nothing was read but books of feigned chivalry, wherein a man by reading should be led to none other end, but only to manslaughter and bawdry.

If I were a maker of books I should compile a register, with comments, of different deaths. He who should teach people to die, would teach them to live.

Books are all right, but dead men’s brains are no good unless you mix a live one’s with them.

Its emptiness is more than the lack of living, breathing beings. It is the unread pages of the many books that reside on the shelves throughout the room I should hot have thought one could tell when books have gone unread, but after the company of Birchwood’s well-loved library it is as if I can hear these books whispering, their pages grasping and reaching for an audience.

God, they read a book, he thought, and they spout on forever.

I didn’t know there was a dying-professor section at the bookstore.

Other

Say, there is a book written by Tolstoy sitting right there on the table. To our unique human consciousness, the reality of the papers in the book, is infinitely different from the valuable literature that they possess. For the kind of consciousness possessed by the bug which eats those papers, literature is non-existent, yet for the Human Consciousness, literature has a greater value of truth than the papers themselves.

Many a man lives a burden to the Earth, but a good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, imbalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life.

Every book has it's destiny, Like a human life , Sometime when an Author is dead the destiny of the book begins" The days of Childhood !!!!!

Books are like imprisoned souls until someone takes them down from a shelf and frees them.

The bookstore was a parking lot for used graveyards. Thousands of graveyards were parked in rows like cars. Most of the books were out of print, and no one wanted to read them any more and the people who had read the books had died or forgotten about them, but through the organic process of music the books had become virgins again.

Books should, not Business, entertain the Light; And Sleep, as undisturb'd as Death, the Night.

I'm not too concerned what happens to my books after I'm dead. But I am very concerned by what's going on with the culture of reading and writing nowadays.

Imagine a survivor of a failed civilization with only a tattered book on aromatherapy for guidance in arresting a cholera epidemic. Yet, such a book would more likely be found amid the debris than a comprehensible medical text.

For ordinary books are like meteors. Each of them has only one moment, a moment when it soars screaming like the phoenix, all its pages aflame. For that single moment we love them ever after, although they soon turn to ashes. With bitter resignation we sometimes wander late at night through the extinct pages that tell their stone dead messages like wooden rosary beads.

Books bound in human skin and written in a formal propositional calculus where each axiom was a closure wrapped around eternal damnation.

Oh, every person is a book with chapters. Some are glorious and some are dark and ugly. Every person survives something.

I’m not too concerned what happens to my books after I’m dead. But I am very concerned by what’s going on with the culture of reading and writing nowadays.

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