Books are mirrors: you only see in them what you already have inside you.
Every book, every volume you see here, has a soul. The soul of the person who wrote it and of those who read it and lived and dreamed with it. Every time a book changes hands, every time someone runs his eyes down its pages, its spirit grows and strengthens.
Destiny is usually just around the corner. Like a thief, a hooker, or a lottery vendor: its three most common personifications. But what destiny does not do is home visits. You have to go for it.
Every time a book changes hands, every time someone runs his eyes down its pages, its spirit grows and strengthens.
Destiny doesn't do home visits... you have to go for it yourself.
Fools talk, cowards are silent, wise men listen.
People tend to complicate their own lives, as if living weren't already complicated enough.
Presents are made for the pleasure of who gives them, not the merits of who receives them.
Once, in my father's bookshop, I heard a regular customer say that few things leave a deeper mark on a reader than the first book that finds its way into his heart. Those first images, the echo of words we think we have left behind, accompany us throughout our lives and sculpt a palace in our memory to which, sooner or later—no matter how many books we read, how many worlds we discover, or how much we learn or forget—we will return.
Bea says that the art of reading is slowly dying, that it's an intimate ritual, that a book is a mirror that offers us only what we already carry inside us, that when we read, we do it with all our heart and mind, and great readers are becoming more scarce by the day.
In the shop we buy and sell them, but in truth books have no owner. Every book you see here has been somebody’s best friend.
Sometimes we think people are like lottery tickets, that they're there to make our most absurd dreams come true.
I was raised among books, making invisible friends in pages that seemed cast from dust and whose smell I carry on my hands to this day.
A book is a mirror that offers us only what we already carry inside us.
A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies, said Jojen. The man who never reads lives only one.
The moment you stop to think about whether you love someone, you've already stopped loving that person forever.
A secret's worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept.
People talk too much. Humans aren't descended from monkeys. They come from parrots.
A story is a letter that the author writes to himself, to tell himself things that he would be unable to discover otherwise.
But in good time you'll see that sometimes what matters isn't what one gives but what one gives up.
or simply:
