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“We are told that in translation there is no such thing as equivalence. Many times the translator reaches a fork in the translating road where they must make a choice in the interpretation of a word. And each time they make one of these choices, they are taken further from the truth. But what we aren’t told is that this isn’t a shortcoming of translation; it’s a shortcoming of language itself. As soon as we try to put reality into words, we limit it. Words are not reality, they are the cause of reality, and thus reality is always more. Writers aren't alchemists who transmute words into the aurous essence of the human experience. No, they are glassmakers. They create a work of art that enables us to see inside to help us understand. And if they are really good, we can see our own reflections staring back at us.”

“To hear never-heard sounds, To see never-seen colors and shapes, To try to understand the imperceptible Power pervading the world; To fly and find pure ethereal substances That are not of matter But of that invisible soul pervading reality. To hear another soul and to whisper to another soul; To be a lantern in the darkness Or an umbrella in a stormy day; To feel much more than know. To be the eyes of an eagle, slope of a mountain; To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon; To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves; To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets Of crazy cities watching, watching, and watching. To be a smile on the face of a woman And shine in her memory As a moment saved without planning.”

“Reading poetry is like undressing before a bath. You don't undress out of fear that your clothes will become wet. You undress because you want the water to touch you. You want to completely immerse yourself in the feeling of the water and to emerge anew.”

“Max went everywhere and tried everything. He visited floating sweetshops where he bought tiny chocolate goldfish that wriggled as you ate them, and toffee shrimps curled snugly in caramel shells. He went to bakeries where he found braided sugar loaves in the shape of boats, and gingerbread pirate ships complete with sugar-drop cannonballs. He passed cake shops that sold ten different kinds of chocolate cake, along with tiny golden vanilla biscuits shaped like dolphins, and shiny opera cakes with layers and layers of almond sponge and coffee cream.”

“Welcome to Book-a-holic Anonymous. Hi, I'm Jazz and I am addicted to the written word. I love the smell of the blackest ink sliding across texture paper. My eyes squint against the loss of time within the pages of story. I don't think there's a cure for my compulsion to lose myself within life and times of those characters bound between the covers.”

“She was beyond elated by her performance, but the weight of that happening without Cade started to sink in. The fact that she hadn't spoken to him yet, that she didn't even have the answers for what the press might be asking her. Crash. For what her friends would be asking her. Crash. The answers that she wanted to know. Crash. Did she want to know? Crash.”

“It was impossible to describe Allegra. He knew the human. The girl with the mole on her neck. The girl who would only say "bless you" twice—if you sneezed a third time, she was silent. The girl who picked at her lips when she was nervous. The girl who carried her own hot sauce around. The girl who stared off into space, sometimes for minutes on end. The girl who only made eye contact when she was listening to you, rarely when she was speaking to you. The girl who loathed smelly cheese. The girl who unconsciously mimicked people's accents. The girl whose entire face transformed when she laughed. His Allegra. The one millions would never know. The one he had earned through one summer of working with her, and one night in a glass house.”

“She might not have read many books. But when she reads a book, she swallows the very words. If you open the books on her shelves, you will find that the front and back covers encase white pages.”

“In the same way, if you are only reading what suits your taste, you would soon get bored. You must also read books that are not as per your taste, even if it means putting in great effort in the beginning to read such books. It is only when you force your mind to exercise itself by reading difficult thoughts that it grows, similar to the situation where the muscle mass in our body increases when we lift weights. When you broaden your mind, your ability to enjoy reading increases.”

“We are all born as storytellers. Our inner voice tells the first story we ever hear.”