The Bookshop Book

bookshops are time machines spaceships story-makers secret-keepers dragon-tamers dream-catchers fact-finders & safe places. (this book is for those who know this to be true)

You see, bookshops are dreams built of wood and paper. They are time travel and escape and knowledge and power. They are, simply put, the best of places.

These places are time machines, spaceships, story-makers, secret-keepers. They are dragon-tamers, dream-catchers, fact-finders, and safe places. They are full of infinite possibilities and tales worth taking home.

Perhaps that is the best way to say it: printed books are magical, and real bookshops keep that magic alive.

Because whether we're in the middle of the desert or in the heart of a city, or the top of a mountain or on an underground train: having good stories to keep us company means the whole world.

There aren’t many things in life better than books, tea and cake

Who wouldn't want to get married in a room full of love stories?

These days, we've got booksellers in cities, in deserts, and in the middle of a rain forest; we've got travelling bookshops, and bookshops underground. We've got bookshops in barns, in caravans and in converted Victorian railway stations. We've even got booksellers selling books in the middle of a war. Are bookshops still relevant? They certainly are. All bookshops are full of stories, and stories want to be heard.

How he described the bookshop: where the streets of the world meet the avenues of the mind.

We've always used stories as a way to pass on our history, as a way to explain things in life that we don't understand. We use them to make us feel connected to everything around us, and to help us escape to another time or place. Bookshops across the world are full of these stories. From travelling booksellers and undercover bookshops, to pop-up stalls and community hubs, walking into a good bookshop is like walking into another zone.These places are time machines, spaceships, story-makers, secret-keepers. They are dragon-tamers, dream-catchers, fact-finders and safe places. They are full of infinite possibilities, and tales worth taking home. Because whether we're in the middle of the desert or in the heart of a city, on the top of a mountain or on an underground train: having good stories to keep us company can mean the whole world.

Although I was always a keen library user, buying books was a different order of bliss, because I would get to live with these ones. (A Chat with Emma Donoghue)

Steal not this book, my worthy friend, For fear the gallows will be your end; Up the ladder, and down the rope, There you'll hang until you choke; Then I'll come along and say - 'Where's that book you stole away?

I still think that going in on that Friday afternoon and spending that money was one of the happiest experiences of my life.

They are a brilliant device for shape-shifting as we can slip into the skin of authors from other times, other cultural backgrounds, brilliant minds who give us a new perspective on life and the world - something we all need from time to time. - Cornelia Funke

My first port of call was ReadingLasses Bookshop & Café. There aren’t many things in life better than books, tea and cake (if you disagree, I’m afraid we can never be friends), and at ReadingLasses, where you can get all three at the same time, you soon lose any desire to leave.

I figure whatever I choose to create, I'll be neglecting somebody - so my art may as well make me happy. - Audrey Niffenegger

I also have to credit Bill Bilby, owner of Chelsea Books, with two other important lessons: first, his shop was always tidy and thoughtfully-organized –a remarkable trait in secondhand shops; and second, he was visibly enthusiastic about his stock. He was the first bookseller I knew to describe a book-artefact as “sexy”! A cynic might denigrate this latter trait as a mere sales tactic –because indeed his infectious enthusiasm successfully sold lots of books –but the fact is that the guy was, and is, just a completely mad bibliophile, and being in his shop with him, listening to him effuse about his books, and watching the way he would stroke them and savour them, was profound. It made me realize that we in the trade are actually evangelists of bibliophilia, and embracing and spreading that passion is the only way to ensure our survival.

And if I had a bookshop of my own? Well, it wouldn't make any money. So I am no help to anyone. But I would set it somewhere with a garden, where light poured in through the windows. Sit in the sun, I'd tell my customers. Open this book. Try it. It won't do any harm, after all, to sit a while and read.

A young boy suggested I get a dragon to guard all the books in the shop when I wasn’t there. When I asked him if that mightn’t be a fire hazard, he rolled his eyes and told me that obviously I’d have to get a trained one.

I fell in love with stories. Books were a way to understand the world, and people, better without leaving my house (or even my head).

Books cost money because they are items of value, and I think that in our hunger for deals and discounts we have forgotten what value is.

Lignin, an organic polymer found in trees, is chemically similar to vanillin, the primary extract of the vanilla bean. So when trees are made into books and kept for long periods of time, the lignin in the paper breaks down and starts to smell like vanilla. This is why antiquarian books, and secondhand bookshops, smell so damn good.

If I could open up my own bookstore? I’d open a place that’s only for people who really love books. All genres would be welcome, but there would be no paperbacks in the whole place – and if you rip a dust cover, you’re banned for life.

Life is short, and there are many good things to be found in books. Books are tasty, fulfilling, delicious and rare.

Happiness lies in being privileged to work hard for long hours in doing whatever you think is worth doing.

You see, bookshops are dreams built of wood and paper.

If you know the book you want, go into a bookshop and buy it, you have failed.

The word abibliophobia (noun) is the fear of running out of things to read.

This book is the property of Annie Jeffrey. If this be borrowed by a friend, quite welcome shall he be to read, to study, to not lend but to return to me. Not that imparted knowledge doth diminish learning, but books I find often lent return to me no more. Read, understand what you read, and return in due time with the corners of the leaves not turned down.

From travelling booksellers and undercover bookshops, to pop-up stalls and community hubs, walking into a good bookshop is like walking into another zone. These places are time machines, spaceships, story-makers, secret-keepers. They are dragon-tamers, dream-catchers, fact-finders and safe places. They are full of infinite possibilities, and tales worth taking home.