Libraries Quotes
Most popular libraries quotes
A library is not a luxury, but one of the necessaries of life.
The library is the temple of learning, and learning has liberated more people than all the wars in history.
Without libraries what have we? We have no past and no future.
Perhaps no place in any community is so totally democratic as the town library. The only entrance requirement is interest.
A man's library is a sort of harem.
If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.
A library, to modify the famous metaphor of Socrates, should be the delivery room for the birth of ideas—a place where history comes to life.
The world is a library of strange and wonderful books, and sometimes we just need to go prowling through the stacks.
A family library is a breeding-place for character.
Library-denigrators, pay heed: suggesting that the Internet is a viable substitute for libraries is like saying porn could replace your wife.
There are times when I think that the ideal library is composed solely of reference books. They are like understanding friends—always ready to meet your mood, always ready to change the subject when you have had enough of this or that.
The library became the cathedral where I would come to worship and the stories were as precious to me as prayers.
Here is where people, One frequently finds, Lower their voices And raise their minds.
It isn't just a library. It is a space ship that will take you to the farthest reaches of the Universe, a time machine that will take you to the far past and the far future, a teacher that knows more than any human being, a friend that will amuse you and console you—and most of all, a gateway, to a better and happier and more useful life.
When I read constantly about the way in which library funds are being cut and cut, I can only think that the door is closing and that American society has found one more way to destroy itself.
I myself spent hours in the Columbia library as intimidated and embarrassed as a famished gourmet invited to a dream restaurant where every dish from all the world's cuisines, past and present, was available on request.
I had always imagined Paradise as a kind of library.
For the location of a mislaid volume, an uncatalogued item, your good librarian has a ferret's nose. Give her a scent and she jumps the leash, her eye bright with battle.
Libraries raised me.
A library doesn't need windows. A library is a window.
Our library has the most effective search engines yet invented—librarians who are highly skilled at ferreting out the uniquely useful references you need.
The library is not, as some would have it, a place for the retiring of disposition or faint of heart. It is not an ivory tower or a quiet room in a sanitarium facing away from the afternoon sun.
A great library contains the diary of the human race.
Librarianship is the connecting of people to ideas.
Upon the library shelves tall tomes, with their backs to the world, preserved the ponderous knowledge of ages.
The three most important documents a free society gives are a birth certificate, a passport, and a library card.
The library is an arena of possibility, opening both a window into the soul and a door onto the world.
A man should keep his little brain-attic stocked with all the furniture that he is likely to use, and the rest he can put away in the lumber-room of his library, where he can get it if he wants it.
A book is a fragile creature, it suffers the wear of time, it fears rodents, the elements, clumsy hands.
You know, when you're young, you're growing up, they're almost sexually exciting places because books are powerhouses of knowledge, and therefore they're kind of slightly dark and dangerous. You see books that kind of make you go "Oh!"
The librarian isn't a clerk who happens to work at a library. A librarian is a data hound, a guide, a sherpa and a teacher. The librarian is the interface between reams of data and the untrained but motivated user.
He that revels in a well-chosen library has innumerable dishes, all of admirable flavor.
Libraries are reservoirs of strength, grace and wit, reminders of order, calm and continuity, lakes of mental energy, neither warm nor cold, light nor dark.
A library is a place where you can lose your innocence without losing your virginity.
Your library is your portrait.
The small library in my Cleveland-area day school was merely a gateway drug to the local public library a mile from my home. I spent innumerable hours there as a boy, addicted as much to the serendipitous pleasures of searching for a good book as to the satisfying relish of losing myself in its pages once I found one.
No place affords a more striking conviction of the vanity of human hopes than a public library.
I took to the Bodleian library as to a lover and...would sit long hours in Bodley's arms, to emerge, blinking and dazed with the smell and feel of all those books.
I attempted briefly to consecrate myself in the public library, believing every crack in my soul could be chinked with a book.
The library is the proper workshop of professors and students alike.
With a library you are free, not confined by temporary political climates. It is the most democratic of institutions because no one—but no one at all—can tell you what to read and when and how.
Libraries Are Necessary Gardens, Unsurpassed At Growing Excitement.
For the existence of a library, the fact of its existence, is, in itself and of itself, an assertion—a proposition nailed like Luther's to the door of time.
A library is never—for lovers of the written word—simply a place for conserving or storing books but rather a sort of living creature, with a personality and even moods which we should understand and learn to live with.
A library in the middle of a community is a cross between an emergency exit, a life raft and a festival. They are cathedrals of the mind; hospitals of the soul; theme parks of the imagination.
From his refined accent, quiet voice and apparent omniscience, I took him for a librarian.
It's funny that we think of libraries as quiet demure places where we are shushed by dusty, bun-balancing, bespectacled women. The truth is libraries are raucous clubhouses for free speech, controversy, and community.
Librarian is a service occupation, gas station attendant of the mind. In an earlier age, I might have made things. Now I only make things available.
We are the only species on the planet, so far as we know, to have invented a communal memory stored neither in our genes nor in our brains. The warehouse of that memory is called the library.
A library is thought in cold storage.
As the strata of the earth preserve in their order the living creatures of past epochs, so do the shelves of libraries preserve in their order past errors and their expositions.
My library is an archive of longings.
There it is: that wonderful library smell. How could I have forgotten it? The feel of libraries—the way they look, feel, smell sound—lingers intensely as the memories of a fierce first love.
To a historian libraries are food, shelter, and even muse.
Every time I went to the library, it felt like a treasure hunt: somewhere amid those dusty books was the answer, and all I had to do was find it.
The death of a library, any library, suggests that the community has lost its soul.
In the nonstop tsunami of global information, librarians provide us with floaties and teach us how to swim.
I ransack public libraries & find them full of sunk treasure.
I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.
