A Quote by Robert Southey

Give me a room whose every nook is dedicated to a book. — © Robert Southey
Give me a room whose every nook is dedicated to a book.
'The Things They Carried' is labeled right inside the book as a work of fiction, but I did set out when I wrote the book to make it feel real... I use my own name, and I dedicated the book to characters in the book to give it the form of a war memoir.
Every home should have a room, or at least a nook with two chairs, where it is a sin punishable by immediate expulsion to speak of money, business, politics or the state of one's teeth.
Oh for a book and a shady nook, Either indoors or out, with the green leaves whispering overhead, or the street cries all about. Where I may read at all my ease both of the new and old, For a jolly good book whereon to look is better to me than gold
This book is dedicated to Sweet Loretta Modern. It's also dedicated to all the Jerichoholics who have stood behind me through all of the trials and tribulations over the last twenty years.If I were wearing a hat, I would tip it all to you.
What if there was a library which held every book? Not every book on sale, or every important book, or even every book in English, but simply every book - a key part of our planet's cultural legacy.
One of the few things I know about writing is this: Spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book, give it, give it all, give it now.
I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.
The first fresh hour of every morning should be dedicated to the Lord, whose mercy gladdens it with golden light.
Tell him that PDP women in every nook and cranny, wherever we are, young or old, beautiful or ugly, tall or short, small or big, we are chanting to Nigerians: all we are saying, give us Goodluck.
I am a legal immigrant whose parents went from Russia to China to Chile to finally reach the United States and thereby give me a chance to have a better life. I served six years in the U.S. Army Reserve, went to college, have a successful career and have dedicated my life to being a good citizen.
Each my book feels like my last book. And then I think, like a dedicated alcoholic, that one more won't do me any harm.
This book is dedicated to all those who fell by the airside, for nothing is wasted, and every apparent failure is but a challenge to others.
I want to know one thing, the way to heaven; how to land safe on that happy shore. God Himself has condescended to teach the way; for this end He came from heaven. He hath written it down in a book. Give me that book! At any price give me the Book of God!
Question four: What book would you give to every child? Answer: I wouldn't give them a book. Books are part of the problem: this strange belief that a tree has nothing to say until it is murdered, its flesh pulped, and then (human) people stain this flesh with words. I would take children outside and put them face to face with chipmunks, dragonflies, tadpoles, hummingbirds, stones, rivers, trees, crawdads. That said, if you're going to force me to give them a book, it would be The Wind In The Willows, which I hope would remind them to go outside.
Real life is physical. Give me books instead. Give me the invisibility of the contents of books, the thoughts, the ideas, the images. Let me become part of a book. . . . an intertextual being: a book cyborg, or, considering that books aren't cybernetic, perhaps a bibliorg.
Monetary relations have penetrated into every nook and cranny of the world and into almost every aspect of social, even private life.
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