I kept always two books in my pocket, one to read, one to write in.

I kept always two books in my pocket, one to read, one to write in. As I walked, my mind was busy fitting what I saw with appropriate words; when I sat by the roadside, I would either read or a pencil and a penny version-book would be in my hand, to note the features of the scene or commemorate some halting stanzas. Thus I lived with words.

Since I was trying so hard to make books lead my life, I didn’t want to read them and then just put them back on the shelf and say, “good book,” as if I was patting a good dog. I wanted books to change me, and I wanted to write books that would change others.

Once you have read a book you care about, some part of it is always with you.

Books are good enough in their own way, but they are a poor substitute for life.

No one ever committed suicide while reading a good book, but many have tried while trying to write one