I love bookshelves, and stacks of books, spines, typography, and the feel of pages between my fingertips. I love bookmarks, and old bindings, and stars in margins next to beautiful passages. I love exuberant underlinings that recall to me a swoon of language-love from a long-ago reading, something I hoped to remember. I love book plates, and inscriptions in gifts from loved ones, I love author signatures, and I love books sitting around reminding me of them, being present in my life, being. I love books. Not just for what they contain. I love them as objects too, as ever-present reminders of what they contain, and because they are beautiful. They are one of my favorite things in life, really at the tiptop of the list, easily my favorite inanimate things in existence, and … I am just not cottoning on to this idea of making them … not exist anymore. Making them cease to take up space in the world, in my life? No, please do not take away the physical reality of my books.

Laini Taylor (via littledallilasbookshelf)

(via booksbodacious)

hi just wanted to say that the girl with all the gifts (you bought it as a part of books are my bag i believe) is really really good and i hope you enjoy reading it :)

Asked by Anonymous

I did! I can’t wait to read it. I’ve been avoiding reading too much about it, but I feel like it’s been everywhere so I was intrigued.