When the last reader reads no more. [ Oliver Wendell Holmes ]

Woe be to him that reads but one book. [ English Proverb, collected by George Herbert ]

Many books,
Wise men have said, are wearisome; who reads
Incessantly, and to his reading brings not
A spirit and judgment equal or superior,
Uncertain and unsettled still remains -
Deep versed in books, and shallow in himself. [ Milton ]

Trade hardly deems the busy day begun,
Till his keen eye along the sheet has run;
The blooming daughter throws her needle by.
And reads her schoolmate's marriage with a sigh;
While the grave mother puts her glasses on.
And gives a tear to some old crony gone.
The preacher, too, his Sunday theme lays down,
To know what last new folly fills the town;
Lively or sad, life's meanest, mightiest things.
The fate of fighting cocks, or fighting kings. [ Sprague ]

Every reader reads himself out of the book that he reads. [ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe ]

To a woman, the romances she makes are more amusing than those she reads. [ T. Gautier ]

We live in an age that reads too much to be wise and thinks too much to be beautiful. [ Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Grey ]

From the beginning and to the end of time, love reads without letters and counts without arithmetic. [ John Ruskin ]

A man ought to read just as inclination leads him; for what he reads as a task will do him little good. [ Sam'l Johnson ]

A man philosophizes better than a woman on the human heart, but she reads the hearts of men better than he. [ J. J. Rousseau ]

What blockheads are those wise persons who think it necessary that a child should comprehend everything it reads! [ Southey ]

Every reader reads himself out of the book that he reads; nay, has he a strong mind, reads himself into the book, and amalgamates his thoughts with the author's. [ Goethe ]

No man reads a book of science from pure inclination. The books that we do read with pleasure are light compositions, which contain a quick succession of events. [ Dr. Johnson ]

A beau is one who arranges his curled locks gracefully, who ever smells of balm, and cinnamon; who hums the songs of the Nile, and Cadiz; who throws his sleek arms into various attitudes; who idles away the whole day among the chairs of the ladies and is ever whispering into some one's ear; who reads little billets-doux from this quarter and that, and writes them in return; who avoids ruffling his dress by contact with his neighbors sleeve, who knows with whom everybody is in love; who flutters from feast to feast, who can recount exactly the pedigree of Hirpinus. What do you tell me? is this a beau, Cotilus? Then a beau, Cotilus, is a very trifling thing. [ Martial ]