bookstore

It is clear that the books owned the shop rather than the other way about. Everywhere they had run wild and taken possession of their habitat, breeding and multiplying, and clearly lacking any strong hand to keep them down.

I love walking into a bookstore. It's like all my friends are sitting on shelves, waving their pages at me.

What I say is, a town isn__ a town without a bookstore. It may call itself a town, but unless it__ got a bookstore, it knows it__ not foolin_ a soul.

You are more likely to find three TVs inside a randomly selected house than you are to find a single book that is or was not read to pass an exam, to please God, or to be a better cook.

This is a feminist bookstore. There is no humor section.

It__ always the end of the world,_ said Russell Grandinetti, one of Amazon__ top executives. __ou could set your watch on it arriving._ He pointed out, though, that the landscape was in some ways changing for the first time since Gutenberg invented the modern book nearly 600 years ago. __he only really necessary people in the publishing process now are the writer and reader,_ he said. __veryone who stands between those two has both risk and opportunity._ Amazon Signs Up Authors, Writing Publishers Out of Deal. New York Times, 10/16/2011

I had a friend once who looked at his library and discovered that even if he completely stopped filmmaking (he was a filmmaker too) and just decided to read the books he had in his library, it would take him until he was 100 years old. He was a little bit panicked. But he was courageous. He went out of his house. He went to the bookstore. And he bought ten books.

A library always housed a trove of undiscovered friendships and forays, and a bookstore, a place where those temporary connections might become a constancy, must always hold a charm over any scholar__ heart.

Walking into a bookshop is a depressing thing. It__ not the pretentious twats, browsing books as part of their desirable lifestyle. It__ not the scrubby members of staff serving at the counter: the pseudo-hippies and fucking misfits. It__ not the stink of coffee wafting out from somewhere in the building, a concession to the cult of the coffee bean. No, it__ the books. I could ignore the other shit, decide that maybe it didn__ matter too much, that when consumerism meets culture, the result is always going to attract wankers and everything that goes with them. But the books, no, they__e what make your stomach sink and that feeling of dark syrup on the brain descend. Look around you, look at the shelves upon shelves of books _ for years, the vessels of all knowledge. We__e part of the new world now, but books persist. Cheap biographies, pulp fiction; glossy covers hiding inadequate sentiments. Walk in and you__e surrounded by this shit _ to every side a reminder that we don__ want stimulation anymore, we want sedation. Fight your way through the celebrity memoirs, pornographic cook books, and cheap thrills that satisfy most and you get to the second wave of vomit-inducing product: offerings for the inspired and arty. Matte poetry books, classics, the finest culture can provide packaged and wedged into trendy coverings, kidding you that you__e buying a fashion accessory, not a book. But hey, if you can stomach a trip further into the shop, you hit on the meatier stuff _ history, science, economics _ provided they can stick __op._ in front of it, they__l stock it. Pop. psychology, pop. art, pop. life. It__ the new world _ we don__ want serious anymore, we want nuggets of almost-useful information. Books are the past, they__e on the out. Information is digital now; bookshops, they__e somewhere between gallery and museum.

Books are the greatest treasure of wisdom and knowledge for mankind.

On the best nights, he__ appear outside the bookstore window and wait for me to unlock the door. He usually hadn__ had time to shower between doing things with cattle and horses and coming to find me, and he looked older than us and stronger than us.

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

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.

I don't feel sorry for myself, Beck. Lots of people have shitty parents and roaches in the cabinets and stale, raw Pop-Tarts for dinner and a TV that barely works and a dad who doesn't care when his son doesn't come home during a national disaster. The thing is, I'm lucky. I had the bookstore.

Where's your church?""We're standing in it.""But this is a bookstore and it's a Friday.""Yes, but you might also choose to see it as a cathedral of the human spirit-a storehouse consecrated to the full spectrum of human experience. Just about every idea we've ever had is in here somewhere. A place containing great thinking is a sacred space.

I wrote this book to show you that a cure is entirely possible because I've seen it happen over and over again.

Books are a treasured friend, however it__ difficult to explain it to a non-reader.

They ended up at the Old Corner Bookstore, which Brian had read about in a tour guide to Boston. "Longfellow and Hawthorne and Oliver Wendell Holmes used to read here. Let's go in." Brian nudged the girls until they obeyed.It was a regular bookstore, less history-minded than Brian had expected. In fact, the local history shelves were quite mangeable. I'll buy one book, he thought. This will get me launched in actual reading. Out of the zillions of choices, I'll find one here.Brian picked out Paul Revere and the World He Lived In. It was thick and somehow exciting, with its chapter headings and scholarly notes and bibliography.