“How well I know what I mean to doWhen the long dark Autumn evenings come,And where, my soul, is thy pleasant hue?With the music of all thy voices, dumbIn life’s November too!I shall be found by the fire, suppose,O’er a great wise book as beseemeth age,While the shutters flap as the cross-wind blows,And I turn the page, and I turn the page,Not verse now, only prose!”

“My life feels like a book left out on the porch, and the wind blows the pages faster and faster, turning always toward a new chapter faster than I can stop to read it.”

“…I set the house on fire. It’s dark outside. The fire tears down the darkness. I turn my back to the place and leave, not knowing where. And suddenly I understand…All dreams are dead now.”

“I always read the last page of a book first so that if I die before I finish I'll know how it turned out.”

“Begone, foul dwimmerlaik, lord of carrion! Leave the dead in peace!"A cold voice answered: 'Come not between the Nazgûl and his prey! Or he will not slay thee in thy turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shrivelled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye."A sword rang as it was drawn. "Do what you will; but I will hinder it, if I may.""Hinder me? Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!"Then Merry heard of all sounds in that hour the strangest. It seemed that Dernhelm laughed, and the clear voice was like the ring of steel. "But no living man am I!”

“This morning I looked at the books on my shelves and thought that they have no knowledge of my existence. They come to life because I open them and turn their pages, and yet they don't know that I am their reader.”