hey-squishy asked: b, k, t.

B. Best Sequel Ever

EVER? I honestly don’t feel like I’ve read a lot of sequels, but Rebel Angels and The Far Sweet Thing of the Gemma Doyle trilogy flesh out and tie up the story brilliantly.

K. Kinds of Books You Won’t Read

I did read Twilight when it first came out, but I have no interest in 50 Shades of Grey, or straight up romance novels. 

T. Three Of Your All-Time Favorite Books

O.O. UGH. *thinks of books I haven’t mentioned yet* A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing by Eimear McBride, City of Bohane by Kevin Berry, and The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley 

electric-eccentricity asked: by the time you answer this i'm sure they'll have already been done, BUT....O and D =)

Jackie beat you to D! 

O. One Book That You Have Read Multiple Times

Just one?! Hmm, The Foundation Pit by Andrei Platonov. I had to read it for two different courses, but it is one I would still read again in the future. The language is coded poetry in prose, and even though the story is gloomy (Russian lit, what’d ya expect?), it is incredibly profound. 

theladyofriverrun asked: D, F, G, Q <3

D. Drink of Choice While Reading

tea. TeA. tEa. TEA. Any sort (except chamomile), but earl grey, lapsang souchong, and lemon ginger are my favs.  

F. Fictional Character You Would Have Dated In High School

Meaning from a book I liked in middle school? Gemma Doyle. Violet Baudelaire. Isadora Quagmire. Were there boys in the books I read in middle school, idek? ?

G. Glad You Gave This Book A Chance

.. every book I’ve ever read? Ehm, I’ll say The Alchemist. My mam raved about it, but it took me awhile to come round to it, and I’m glad I did. 

Q. Quote From A Book That Inspires You/Gives You Feels

Oh god, SO MANY! I write (or type rather) all my favourite quotes from what I’ve read, and I reread them often. Here’s one from The Elegance of the Hedgehog
“For the very first time it hurt, it really hurt. Like a fist in my stomach: I couldn’t breathe, my heart aching fit to burst, my tummy crushed. An unbearable physical pain. I wondered if I’d ever get over the pain of it. It hurt so much I wanted to scream. But I didn’t scream. What I feel now is that the pain is still there but it isn’t keeping me from walking or talking, it’s a feeling of complete helplessness and absurdity. So that’s what it’s like? All of a sudden all possibility just vanishes? A life full of projects, discussions just started, desires not even fulfilled- it all vanishes in a second and there’s nothing left, nothing left to do, and there’s no going back?
For the first time in my life I understood the meaning of the word never…It’s like firework suddenly burning out in the sky and everything going black. I feel alone, and sick, my heart aches and every movement seems to require a colossal effort.” (so many feels)

nimblewordplay asked: N, P, R :)

I’ve already answered N and R. :) 

P. Preferred Place to Read

Ooo, anywhere warm! My hands get cold easily which makes page turning a bit more challenging, so as long as I’m warm, I’m good. I suppose my favourite place to read (aside from bed), is a coffee and tea shop I used to work at. They had huge wing-backed chairs that were so comfortable. 

Anonymous asked: Bookish survey: R, W, Y (please and thank you)

R. Reading Regret

I’ve read a lot of books I didn’t particularly enjoy for classes, but I can’t say that I’ve regretted any of them. I think you learn something even for the books that aren’t your favourites, and if you’ve learned something, how can you regret it?

W. Worst Bookish Habit

Sometimes I’ll flip ahead and read the last lines of a book before I’ve finished, and I usually kick myself for doing so. 

Y. Your Latest Book Purchase

I purchased a used hardback copy of Donna Tartt’s The Little Friend.

isabelladeste asked: L I N A ;)

L. Longest Book You’ve Read

I think War and Peace takes the cake (and we read it in four weeks for the course I was taking). 

I. Important Moments of Your Reading Life

In first grade, I received the perseverance award for reading A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh, and I was so proud of myself. 
In middle school, I finished standardised testing so early that I could read one A Series of Unfortunate Events book a day, which is why I’ve read that series five times over. 
Jackie and I read Anna Karenina together a few summers ago, and I had never been so completely enthralled by a character before. 
I love to read, but reading out loud in class always terrified me. I stumbled on words I only knew how to pronounce in my head, and I never spoke loud enough, but before I left Jackie’s one time, I read all of The Little Prince to her.

N. Number of Bookcases You Own

At the moment, I personally own zero. But I’ve taken over two of my mam’s, and I have four boxes of books. With Jackie’s collection, we’re going to be purchasing quite a few in the near future. 

A. Author You’ve Read The Most Books From

Either Tolstoy or Chekhov. I’ve taken courses on both, and we read the majority of each author’s works. 

❝ I find it hard to name the one book that was so damn delightful it changed my life. The truth is, they have all changed my life, every single one of them—even the ones I hated. Books are my version of “experiences.” I’m made of them. ❞
—   Zadie Smith, What It Means To Be Addicted to Reading   —


The Beatrice Letters by Lemony Snicket 
↳ letters from beatrice: (4/6) 

"That was me, knocking on your office door yesterday evening. I know you were inside, because I followed you from the library.

Why didn’t you answer? Why won’t you answer any of my questions? I must have at least twelve.”

❝ Books are lighthouses erected in the great sea of time. ❞
—   Edwin Percy Whipple (via bibliophilebunny)   —

Title: The Goldfinch
Author: Donna Tartt
Year: 2013

"At the sight of her I was paralyzed with happiness; it was her, down to the most minute detail, the very pattern of her freckles, she was smiling at me, more beautiful, and yet not older, black hair and funny upward quirk of her mouth, not a dream but a presence that filled the whole room: a force all her own, a living otherness" (7). 

"People die, sure, but it’s so heartbreaking and unnecessary how we lose things. From pure carelessness. Fires, wars. The Parthenon, used as a munitions storehouse. I guess that anything we manage to save from history is a miracle” (28). 

"I was fascinated by strangers, wanted to know what food they ate and what dishes they ate from, what movies they watched and what music they listened to, wanted to look under their beds and in their secret drawers and night tables and inside the pockets of their coats. Often I saw interesting-looking people on the street and thought about them relentlessly for days, imagining their lives, making up stories about them on the subway or the crosstown bus" (28). 

Better wasn’t even the word for how I felt. There wasn’t a word for it. It was more that things too small to mention - laughter in the hall at school, a live gecko scurrying in a tank in the science lab - made me feel happy one moment and the next like crying. Sometimes, in the evenings, a damp, gritty wind blew in the windows from Park Avenue, just as the rush hour traffic was thinning and the city was emptying for the night; it was rainy, trees leafing out, spring deepening into summer; and the forlorn cry of horns on the street, the dank smell of wet pavement had a electricity about it, a sense of crowds a static, lonely secretaries and fat guys with bags of carry-out, everywhere the ungainly sadness of creature pushing and struggling to live. For weeks, I’d been frozen, sealed-off; now, in the shower, I would turn up the water as hard as it would go and howl, silently. Everything was raw and painful and confusing and wrong and yet it was as if I’d been dragged from freezing water through a break in the ice, into sun and blazing cold” (149). 

"The silence between us was happy and strange, connected by the cord and the icy voices thinly echoing. ‘You don’t have to talk,’ she said. ‘If you don’t feel like it.’ Her eyelids were heavy and her voice was drowsy and like a secret. ‘People always want to talk but I like being quiet’" (156). 

"Your descriptions of the desert - that oceanic, endless glare - are terrible, but also very beautiful. Maybe there’s something to be said for the rawness and emptiness of it all. The light of long ago is different from the light of today, and yet here, in this house, I’m reminded of the past at every turn. But when I think of you, it’s as if you’ve gone away to the sea on a ship - out in a foreign brightness where there are no paths, only stars and sky" (281). 

"Quickly I slid it out, and almost immediately its glow enveloped me, something almost musical, an internal sweetness that was inexplicable beyond a deep, blood-rocking harmony of rightness, the way your heart beat slow and sure when you were with a person you felt safe with and loved" (317). 

"She accepted my hand in hers, without saying anything - all bundled up, she hadn’t let them take her coat. Long sleeves in summer - always swathed in a half dozen scarves, like some sort of cocooned insect wrapped in layers - protective padding for a girl who’d been broken and stitched and bolted back together again” (614). 

"Caring too much for objects can destroy you. Only - if you care for a thing enough, it take on a life of its own, doesn’t it? And isn’t the whole point of things - beautiful things - that they connect you to some larger beauty? Those first images that crack your heart wide open and you spend the rest of your life chasing, or trying to recapture, in one way or another?" (757). 

"Because: if our secrets define us, as opposed to the face we show the world: then the painting was the secret that raised me above the surface of life and enabled me to know who I am. And it’s there there in my notebooks, every page, even though it’s not . Dream and magic, magic and delirium. The Unified Field Theory. A secret about a secret" (764). 

"Because, here’s the truth: life is a catastrophe. The basic fact of our existence - of walking around to feed ourselves and find friends and whatever else we do - is a catastrophe" (767). 

"As much as I’d like to believe there’s a truth beyond illusion, I’ve come to believe that there’s no truth beyond illusion. Because, between ‘reality’ on the one hand, and the point where the mind strike reality, there’s a middle zone, a rainbow edge where beauty comes into being, where two very different surfaces mingle and blur to provide what life does not: and this is the space where all art exists, and all magic" (770). 



Donna Tartt and Bret Easton Ellis.

The only really tense moment [Donna] and I ever had was in this writing tutorial where she’d brought the novel. It was just me and Donna and one other girl. At that point I’d read the first eighty to ninety pages of The Secret History. I thought it was beautifully written; I only had one criticism. I said, ‘Here’s this guy, the narrator, a freshman at college, and he has no sort of sexual feeling, no desire at all. It just doesn’t seem realistic.’ She gave the stoniest look I ever got. I almost wilted into my chair.
❝ Books can harm you, and a careless John I would be if I were to let you open this volume and think you had a nice plump dog on a satin leash who would do your bidding and ask for no more than you liked to give. Books are not like that. They want to eat you up. They want you to spend yourself on their iron hearts and submit to their wills. An unsuspecting man who happens to find himself in this unfortunate world which is practically ruled by books has but two choices—give in and go under the page with the secret smile of the slattern on one’s lips, or become the thing the book spends itself upon, become himself the iron princess with horns of gold, become fantastical and gorgeous beyond measure, nearly impossible to believe, but not so impossible that the spell is broken. Become the thing the tale tells of, something so strange that some book somewhere simply bursts into being to record your supereminence. ❞
—   John of Mandeville, The Folded World (Catherynne M. Valente)   —

Book Lover


Rules: In a text post, list ten books that have stayed with you in some way. Don’t take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard — they don’t have to be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have touched you. Tag ten friends, including me, so I’ll see your list. Make sure you let your friends know you’ve tagged them!
Tagged by allthishashappened.

  • Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
  • The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
  • Oscar and the Lady in Pink by Éric-Emmanuel Schmitt
  • The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Bradbury
  • City of Bohane by Kevin Barry 
  • The Cherry Orchard by Anton Chekhov
  • Old Times by Harold Pinter
  • Never Let Me Go by Kakuo Ishiguro
  • Mister God, This is Anna by Flynn
  • The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley
  • A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket
  • The Gemma Doyle Trilogy by Libba Bray
  • The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath 

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt