The Paris Library

Books and ideas are like blood; they need to circulate, and they keep us alive.

People are awkward, they don’t always know what to do or say. Don’t hold it against them. You never know what’s in their hearts.

Libraries are lungs, [...] books the fresh air breathed in to keep the heart beating, to keep the brain imagining, to keep hope alive.

I was skeptical about soulmates, but could believe in bookmates, two beings bound by a passion for reading.

Try not to hold that against them; you never know what’s in their heart. Don’t be afraid to be different. Stand your ground. During bad times, remember that nothing lasts forever. Accept people for who they are, not for who you want them to be. Try to put yourself in their shoes. Or, as my friend Odile would say, ‘in their skin.’

GRIEF IS A sea made of your own tears. Salty swells cover the dark depths you must swim at your own pace. It takes time to build stamina. Some days, my arms sliced through the water, and I felt things would be okay, the shore wasn’t so far off. Then one memory, one moment would nearly drown me, and I’d be back to the beginning, fighting to stay above the waves, exhausted, sinking in my own sorrow.

Then, with a handful of pages left, I started to dread the fact that this world that I loved was coming to an end. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I read slowly, just savoring the scenes.

Love is accepting someone, all parts of them, even the ones you don’t like or understand.

Libraries are lungs,’ she scrawled, her pen barely able to keep up with her ideas, ‘books the fresh air breathed in to keep the heart beating, to keep the brain imagining, to keep hope alive.

The Library is my haven. I can always find a corner of the stacks to call my own, to read and dream. I want to make sure everyone has that chance, most especially the people who feel different and need a place to call home.

Be grateful for what people tell you, when they’re ready to talk. Try to accept their limits, and understand that their limits usually have nothing to do with you.

You're nothing without principles. Nowhere without ideals. No one without courage.

It’s important to remember how hard it is to ask for help,” she reminded me. “Never be impatient; all questions have value.

First because I was happy to have read it. Second because the story was so moving. Third because I’ll never again experience the discovery of it.

It was why I read - to glimpse other lives.

A friend said she believes that in reading stories set in World War II, people like to ask themselves what they would have done. I think a better question to ask is what can we do now to ensure that libraries and learning are accessible to all and that we treat people with dignity and compassion.

Love is like the sea. It’s a moving thing, but still and all, it takes shape from the shore it meets, and it’s different with every shore.

People don’t always know what to do or say. Try not to hold that against them; you never know what’s in their heart.

We're bookmates," she said, in the decisive tone one would assert "the sky is blue," or "Paris is the best city in the world." I was skeptical about soulmates, but could believe in bookmates, two beings bound by a passion for reading.

Your father’s old, he won’t change. And dogs don’t have kittens, so you’re as stubborn as he. The only thing you can change is the way you see him.

Sometimes, when people have gone through tough times, or been betrayed, the only way for them to survive is to cut off the person who hurt them.

But seriously, why books. Because no other thing possesses that mystical faculty to make people see with other people’s eyes. The Library is a bridge of books between cultures.

You made it through a war; I can't even make it through Junior High.

I remembered was: “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.

Each person is responsible for their actions.” “Generally, I’d agree,” she said, “but not in this case. The stakes were too high. I put Margaret in danger. I never breathed a word of this to anyone, not even Buck.” She looked me straight in the eye. “But I’m telling you because I don’t want you to make the same mistake. Control your jealousy, or it will control you.

Of course, he knew something was wrong, he was a librarian—part psychologist, bartender, bouncer, and detective.

Sometimes, when you win, you lose.