Christopher Morley Quotes

Sometimes I thought Truth had vanished from the earth,” he cried bitterly. “Like everything else, it was rationed by the governments.

They go in not because they need any certain volume but because they feel that there may be some book that needs them.

"Ich kenne den Wert der Werbung durchaus, mein Lieber. In meinem Fall aber wäre sie nutzlos. Ich vertreibe keine Ware, sondern habe mich daraug spezialisiert, das Buch dem Bedürfnis meines Gegenübers anzupassen. Unter uns gesagt: Das sogenannte "gute Buch" gibt es nicht. Ein Buch ist nur dann "gut", wenn es menschlischen Hunger stillt oder einen menschlichen Irrtum widerlegt. Ein Buch, das aus meiner Sicht gut ist, ist für Sie vielleicht ohne jeden Wert. Ich mache mir die Freude, meinen Patienten Bücher zu verschreiben, jenen Kunden also, die bereit sind, mir ihre Symptome zu nennen. Manche Leute haben ihre Lesefähigkeit verkümmern lassen, sodass mir nur noch die Autopsie bleibt. Die meisten aber sind noch heilbar. Niemand ist so dankbar wie der Mensch, dem man genau das Buch gegeben hat, das seine Seele brauchte, obgleich er es nicht wusste. Keine Werbung der Welt ist so wirksam wie ein dankbarer Kunde."

Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to continually be part of unanimity.

Although he kept late hours, Roger Mifflin was a prompt riser. It is only the very young who find satisfaction in lying abed in the morning. Those who approach the term of the fifth decade are sensitively aware of the fluency of life, and have no taste to squander it among the blankets.

He was a little weary of this just, charitable, consoling, hebdomadal God; this God who might be sufficiently honoured by a decorously memorized ritual. Yet was he too shallow?

A gathering of booksellers is a pleasant sanhedrim to attend. The members of this ancient craft bear mannerisms and earmarks just as definitely recognizable as those of the cloak and suit business or any other trade. They are likely to be a little — shall we say — worn at the bindings, as becomes men who have forsaken worldly profit to pursue a noble calling ill rewarded in cash. They are possibly a trifle embittered, which is an excellent demeanour for mankind in the face of inscrutable heaven. Long experience with publishers' salesmen makes them suspicious of books praised between the courses of a heavy meal.

Der Hunger nach guten Büchern ist weiter verbreitet und hartnäckiger, als Sie glauben, aber in gewisser Weise trotzdem vielfach unbewusst. Die Menschen brauchen Bücher, wissen es aber nicht. Meistens wissen sie gar nicht, dass es die Bücher, die sie brauchen, überhaupt gibt.

is intolerable for a human being to go on doing any task as a penance, under duress. No matter what the work is, one must spiritualize it in some way, shatter the old idea of it into bits and rebuild it nearer to the heart’s desire.

Oh solitude, that noble peace of the mind! He loved the throng and multitude of the day: he loved people: but sometimes he suspected that he loved them as God doesat a judicious distance.

By and bye he wrote two letters. One was to a bookseller in the city, asking him to send (at once) one copy of Dr. Holt's book on the Care and Feeding of Children, and a well-illustrated edition of Mother Goose. The other was to Mr. Poodle, asking him to fix a date for the christening of Mr. Gissing's three small nephews, who had come to live with him.

I think any man would be a traitor to humanity who didn’t pledge every effort of his waking life to an attempt to make war impossible in future.

That's why I call this place the Haunted Bookshop. Haunted by the ghosts of the books I haven't read.

"It's spring," Mike said. "Oh, yes, of course, jolly old spring!" said Gissing, as though this was something he had known all along, and had just forgotten for the moment. But he didn't know. This was his first spring, for he was only ten months old.

"and had marvelled at the blue that lies upon the skyline. Here, about him, were the clear familiar colours of the world he knew; but yonder, on the hills, were trees and spaces of another more heavenly tint. That soft blue light, if he could reach it, must be the beginning of what his mind required. He envied Mr. Poodle, whose cottage was on that very hillslope that rose so imperceptibly into sky. One morning he ran and ran, in the lifting day, but always the blue receded. Hot and unbuttoned, he came by the curate's house, just as the latter emerged to pick up the morning paper. "Where does the blue begin?" Gissing panted, trying hard to keep his tongue from sliding out so wetly."