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Shelves Quotes

Browse 578 quotes about Shelves.

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Shelves Quotes

“Throughout the day, Stargirl had been dropping money. She was the Johnny Appleseed of loose change: a penny here, a nickel there. Tossed to the sidewalk, laid on a shelf or bench. Even quarters. "I hate change," she said. "It's so . . . jangly." "Do you realize how much you must throw away in a year?" I said. "Did you ever see a little kid's face when he spots a penny on a sidewalk?"”

YearsLittlesSaidKidsFacesHateRealizingI HateSpotsQuartersShelvesLittle KidDroppingPenniesBenchesSidewalkNickelsStargirlLoose ChangeJohnny Appleseed
Author:Jerry Spinelli
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“It was Adam, but he was too late. He couldn’t love me anymore. He would be so angry with me. I had to hide. He didn’t love me so he might hurt me when he was angry. When he calmed down, that would hurt him. I didn’t want him hurting because of me. There was nowhere for a person to hide. So I wouldn’t be a person. My eyes fell on the shelves that lined the far back corner. A coyote could hide there.”

WantPersonsMightWould BeEyeHurtLateAngryCornersToo LateAdamShelvesHurt MeWant HimCoyotes
Book:Iron Kissed: Mercy Thompson
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“It has always been a happy thought to me that the creek runs on all night, new every minute, whether I wish it or know it or care, as a closed book on a shelf continues to whisper to itself its own inexhaustible tale. So many things have been shown so to me on these banks, so much light has illumined me by reflection here where the water comes down, that I can hardly believe that this grace never flags, that the pouring from ever-renewable sources is endless, impartial, and free.”

KnowsBelieveHas BeensI CanBookLightCareRunningNightWishWaterGraceMinutesSourceReflectionEndlessTalesMysticismFlagsShelvesAll NightPouringCreeksHappy Thoughts
Book:PILGRIM AT TINKER CREEK
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“One of the heavy marble busts that lined the higher shelves had slid free and was falling toward her; she ducked out of its way, and it hit the floor inches from where she'd been standing, leaving a sizable dent in the floor. A second later Jace's arms were around her and he was lifting her off her feet. She was too surprized to struggle as he carried her over to the broken window and dumped her unceremoniously out of it.”

WayFallStruggleFeetBrokenArmsHigherStandingWindowLeavingHeavyInchesShelvesJaceLiftingMarbleDumpedBroken WindowsDumped Her
Book:Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instrument Series (4 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass; City of Fallen Angels
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“Round and round the questions flew, until finally I found myself standing at the open door of a bookshop. It’s natural in times of great perplexity, I think, to seek out the familiar, and the high shelves and long rows of neatly lined-up spines were immensely reassuring. Amid the smell of ink and binding, the dusty motes in beams of strained sunlight, the embrace of warm, tranquil air, I felt that I could breathe more easily.”

ThinkingLongFoundFeltNaturalDoorsAirStandingEmbraceRoundsWarmSmellBreatheFamiliarSunlightShelvesInkFlewSpineBeamBindingTranquilReassuringBookshopsPerplexity
Book:The Distant Hours: A Novel
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“You could tell from the books whether a library was meant for show or not. Books that were used had an open, interested feel to them, even if closed and neatly lined up on a shelf in strict order with their fellows. You felt as though the book took as much interest in you as you did in it and was willing to help when you reached for it.”

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Book:The Scottish Prisoner: A Novel
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“I thought of the one thing about home that I missed, my dad's study with its built-in, floor-to-ceiling shelves sagging with thick biographies and the black leather chair that kept me just uncomfortable enough to keep from feeling sleepy as I read.”

EnoughFeelingsHomeBlackStudyOne ThingDadBuiltMy DadUncomfortableChairsThickShelvesBiographiesCeilingsLeatherSleepySagging
Book:Looking For Alaska Special 10th Anniversary Edition
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“Dali blinked at me. "Would you mind making coffee while you're dancing? I smell it on the bottom shelf, either first or second jar on the left." I opened the first jar and looked inside. Coffee. The label said BORAX. "What's up with the labels?" Dali shrugged. "You're in the house of a cat whose job is to spy. He thinks he's clever. I'd be careful with the silverware drawer. There might be a bomb in it.”

ThinkingMindFirstsSaidMightJobsHouseLeftCatDancingBottomCarefulSmellCoffeeCleverLabelsBombsBe CarefulShelvesSpyJarsDrawers
Author:Ilona Andrews
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“There is no greater power on this earth than story.” Will paced the length of the room. “People think boundaries and borders build nations. Nonsense—words do. Beliefs, declarations, constitutions—words. Stories. Myths. Lies. Promises. History.” Will grabbed the sheaf of newspaper clippings he kept in a stack on his desk. “This, and these”—he gestured to the library’s teeming shelves—“they’re a testament to the country’s rich supernatural history.”

PeopleThinkingCountryStoriesEarthLyingBeliefNationsRoomsRichGreaterPromiseConstitutionLibraryMythNewspapersBoundariesBordersNonsenseLengthDesksShelvesTestamentDeclarationGreater Power
Author:Libba Bray
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“What more could one ask of a companion? To be forever new and yet forever steady, to be strange and familiar all at once, with enough change to quicken my mind, enough steadiness to give sanctuary to my heart. The books on my shelf never asked to come together and they would not trust or want to listen to one another. But each is a piece of a stained-glass whole, without which I wouldn’t make sense to myself or to the world outside.”

WorldWantGivingMindHeartBookEnoughWholeTogetherAsksForeverPiecesStrangeMy HeartGlassesFamiliarMake SenseCompanionSteadyShelvesSanctuarySteadinessStained Glass
Author:Pico Iyer
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“His books were part of him. Each year of his life, it seemed, his books became more and more a part of him. This room, thirty by twenty feet, and the walls of shelves filled with books, had for him the murmuring of many voices. In the books of Herodotus, Tacitus, Rabelais, Thomas Browne, John Milton, and scores of others, he had found men of face and voice more real to him than many a man he had met for a smoke and a talk.”

MenYearsBookRealFacesFoundVoiceRoomsFeetWallMetsTwentiesFilledSmokeThirtyScoreShelvesMiltonMurmuring
Book:Remembrance Rock
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“When I was little, my ambition was to grow up to be a book. Not a writer. People can be killed like ants. Writers are not hard to kill either. But not books: however systematically you try to destroy them, there is always a chance that a copy will survive and continue to enjoy a shelf-life in some corner on an out-of-the-way library somehwere in Reykjavik, Valladolid or Vancouver.”

PeopleWayTryingLittlesBookHardGrowsEnjoyChanceGrowing UpAmbitionLibraryCornersCopiesShelvesAntsMy AmbitionVancouverShelf LifeReykjavik
Book:A Tale of Love and Darkness
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“I will write in words of fire. I will write them on your skin. I will write about desire. Write beginnings, write of sin. You’re the book I love the best, your skin only holds my truth, you will be a palimpsest lines of age rewriting youth. You will not burn upon the pyre. Or be buried on the shelf. You’re my letter to desire: And you’ll never read yourself. I will trace each word and comma As the final dusk descends, You’re my tale of dreams and drama, Let us find out how it ends.”

WritingBookEndsDreamAgeDesireLinesSinFireYouthDramaLettersSkinsFinalsTalesBuriedShelvesDuskRewritingMy TruthPalimpsest
Author:Neil Gaiman
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“Presently he rose and approached the case before which she stood. Its glass shelves were crowded with small broken objects —hardly recognisable domestic utensils, ornaments and personal trifles — made of glass, of clay, of discoloured bronze and other time-blurred substances. 'It seems cruel,' she said, 'that after a while nothing matters... any more than these little things, that used to be necessary and important to forgotten people, and now have to be guessed at under a magnifying glass and labeled: "Use unknown".'”

PeopleLittlesMadeSaidImportantMatterUseSeemsUsedTimeCasesObjectsBrokenRoseForgottenGlassesUsed To BeSubstanceLittle ThingsShelvesClayCrowdedTriflesOrnamentsBronzeMagnifyingNothing MattersMagnifying GlassUtensils
Author:Edith Wharton
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