Quotes I Like :)

“A health to the man on the trail this night: may his grub hold out; may his dogs keep their legs; may his matches never miss fire.” ~Jack London, To the Man on the Trail

“she spent a good deal of time working in the tiny plot of ground in front of the cottage. She was a woman whose flowers were part of her life.” ~Agatha Christie, Three Act Tragedy

“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you . . . I could walk through my garden forever.” ~Alfred Tennyson

“For there is a greater story – a deeper story. A story which rules all stories. And a story of which you are a part.” ~Alister McGrath, The Aedyn Chronicles, Chosen Ones

“Contentment has a depth to it that can’t be as easily flipped on and off as happiness. I’ve discovered that happiness is too fickle an emotion.” ~Lee Bannister, The Cowboy’s Homecoming

“I can’t imagine a man really enjoying a book and reading it only once.” ~C.S. Lewis

“Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of  good weather.” ~John Ruskin

“love is a great builder of bridges . . .” ~Mary Stewart, Wildfire at Midnight

“I am so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” ~L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

“People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing everyday.” ~A.A. Milne

“Books and Crannies was a place of wonder. Rows upon rows of books, many of them tattered, charred, and ancient looking, filled every shelf and corner nearly all the way to the high ceiling. Tall books, skinny books, books about daggerfish, books about the linage of the kings of Skree, books about the rise and fall of the use of sugarberries in cake, books of legend about Anniera, books about books about other books, all organized according to subject in a maze of shelves.” ~Andrew Peterson, On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness

“The cold northern sky was brilliant with stars. The cabin, its logs half smothered in dying masses of verdure which had climbed about it during the summer, was built on the summit of one of the wind-cropped ridges which are called mountains in the far north. Into that north swept infinite wilderness, white and gray where the starlit tops of the spruce rose up at their feet, black in the distance. From somewhere out of it there came  the low, weeping monotone of surf beating on a shore.” ~James Oliver Curwood, Flower of the North

“Through vast distances the forests he loved seemed to whisper it to him, and ahead of him the river seemed to look back, nodding over its shoulder, beckoning to him, telling him the word of the forests was true. It streamed on  lazily, half a mile wide, as if resting for the splashing and roaring rush it would make among the rocks of the next rapids, and in its indolence it sang the low and everlasting song of deep and slowly passing water.”  ~James Oliver Curwood, The Flaming Forest

“The front window was loaded with pile upon pile of  leather-bound volumes, some new, some antique. The display was not quite so neat as those in neighboring windows, but it did suggest an admirable passion for reading.” ~Tasha Alexander, Death in the Floating City

“And then there were the books, so many books, more than I had ever seen in one place at one time: adventures, histories, fairytales, jostled together on huge shelves on either side of the fireplace. Once I dared pull on down, selected for no better reason than a particularly pretty spine. I ran my hand over the musty cover, opened it and read the carefully printed name: TIMOTHY HARTFORD. Then I turned the thick pages, breathed mildewed dust and was transported to another place and time.” ~Kate Morton, The House at Riverton

“Aslan is on the move . . . ” ~Mr. Beaver, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

“I do like a road, because you can be always wondering what is at the end of it.” ~L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl

“What d’you want to go and find a dragon for, at this time of year, and me with my hands full?” ~J.R.R. Tolkien

“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,

At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,

When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,

And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.” ~Mr. Beaver, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe