Books are everywhere; and always the same sense of adventure fills us. Second-hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack. Besides, in this random miscellaneous company we may rub against some complete stranger who will, with luck, turn into the best friend we have in the world.

A town without a bookstore is an empty shell of a place.

How to make spiced rum. Place rum, allspice, cloves, cardamom, star anise, cinnamon, nutmeg, orange peel, and one vanilla bean – split lengthwise – in a jar and store in a dark place for 2 days. Strain rum using cheesecloth. Pour and enjoy.

I prefer cinnamon twists over scones because they’re easier to eat while I’m reading. That’s my main priority when it comes to food. Other people are obsessed with calories, nutritional value, antioxidants. I look at food and wonder: Can I eat that without having to put my book down?

You like almost every genre, but you’re a binge genre reader. When you’re on a science-fiction kick, you stay with sci-fi for weeks. Then, all of a sudden, you’ll drop that genre and turn to historical fiction.

She planned to fix herself a cup of lemon-ginger tea and pick a book from the stack on her coffee table. It didn’t matter which title she chose, every book had something unique to offer. They were memories she’d yet to make. Worlds she’d yet to discover. Friends she’d yet to meet. And she was looking forward to making their acquaintance.

My gut is telling me is that this is where I’m supposed to be. It’s like I left my dreams in a jar on a shelf in my childhood closet, and now I only need to reach up and open the lid so they can come true.

People say write what you know, but I say write about what makes your blood race. Write about that, and your words will become sails filled with a strong wind.

Every time I reread a favorite book, I’d find something new in it. Not because the story changed, but because I did.

There were books everywhere. Hundreds of books. Thousands of books. There were books of every size, shape, and color. They lined the walls from floor to ceiling, standing straight and rigid as soldiers on the polished mahogany shelves, the gilt lettering on their worn spines glinting in the soft light, the scent of supple leather and aging paper filling the air.