I want one!

I want one!

(Source: peaceofmind98)

For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die.
Anne Lamott, Bird By Bird (via bookmania)

Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.
G.K. Chesterton 


Library loft at Fonthill, a historic Arts and Crafts mansion in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. More amazing library photos by Karl Graf here.

I want to go to there. 


Library loft at Fonthill, a historic Arts and Crafts mansion in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. More amazing library photos by Karl Graf here.

I want to go to there. 

37 Books For Kids You Need To Re-Read As An Adult

Harry Potter

Because it’s even more magical than you remember.

The Phantom Tollbooth

Because it’s like Lewis Carroll without all the jabberwocky and drug references and begs to be adapted into a live action-film. When that happens, you’ll want the book to be fresh in your mind.


Because Roald Dahl is a gift to humanity and I’ve always felt the BFG gets overshadowed by his other works, despite being a clear influence on J.K. Rowling. Without Dahl’s Chickens, there would be no Sorcerer’s Stone.

Tuck Everlasting

Because if you want to read a story about a young girl attracted to an immortal, you can do a lot better than Twilight. Natalie Babbitt got there first — and better.

Nancy Drew

Because that girl was a total badass. Sorry, Hardy Boys, but there can only be one.

Where the Sidewalk Ends

Because Shel Silverstein has an endless font of beautiful things to say, proof that you’re never too old or too young for poetry.

Ramona Quimby, Age 8

Because no matter what age you are, you are Ramona forever.

John Green's readers

  • Question: What is one thing that you wish your fans would ask you, but never have? And how would you answer?
  • John Green: You guys have asked me so many questions that I don't think there's ANYTHING you've never asked, except for really personal and/or weird questions I'm grateful to you for not asking. HOWEVER...because my readers are nice people who do not tend to think of themselves when chatting with me (you're very empathetic!) I think one question I don't get asked much is how I feel about my readers. Whether I like them. Whether I'm grateful to them. So let me answer that: Yes. I like them so much. I am so fascinated by them and feel so lucky to have the kind of readers who read my books generously. The truth is, a book can't be good unless and until the reader of that book makes it so. It means so much to me that my books are read so thoughtfully by you, and I am endlessly grateful for all that you do to try to make my books, flawed though they are, the best they can be. So thanks.

Reading is dangerous. 

Reading is dangerous. 

(Source: incidentalcomics.com)

Have you ever heard the wonderful silence just before the dawn? Or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? Or perhaps you know the silence when you haven’t the answer to a question you’ve been asked, or the hush of a country road at night, or the expectant pause of a room full of people when someone is just about to speak, or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you’re alone in the whole house? Each one is different, you know, and all very beautiful if you listen carefully.
Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth (via quotecatalog)


One of the three posters I did for HarperTeen. Check out their blog!

As children we read to escape — to enter fantasy worlds where a bespectacled boy can discover he’s a wizard or a brave girl can find a magical passage through a wardrobe. But we also read to find reflections of ourselves. “Matilda” was the first novel in which I, a shy, bookish child, saw myself. It didn’t matter that I was growing up on a farm in rural New Hampshire and she lived in an English village. I was her. She was me. I was right there beside her as she read alone in her room, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. When “books transported her into new worlds and introduced her to amazing people who lived exciting lives,” I went with her, too.
Chelsey Philpot, “Matilda at 25: Roald Dahl’s bookish heroine is still an inspiration to the quiet girls” 

(Source: Slate)