Diana Gabaldon Quotes

But I was singing loud, and most singers weren't singing loud.

I don't like to sing loud.

And in singing, what my voice lacked in quality it made up for in volume.

The louder I sang, the more it brought out the basic quality of the voice.

Great joy, especially after a sudden change of circumstances, is apt to be silent, and dwells rather in the heart than on the tongue.

I feel that too much singing annoys people.

Singing, for me, means singing as loud as I can.

Seated in my library at night, and looking on the silent faces of my books, I am occasionally visited by a strange sense of the supernatural.

...we are all a volume on the shelf of the... library, a story unto ourselves, never possibly described with one word or even very accurately with thousands.

The studious silence of the library ... Thought is the thought of thought. Tranquil brightness.

You get all sorts of people in the library, and the librarian gets it all.

I find that when I come out of the library I'm in what I call the library bliss of being totally taken away from the distractions of life.

I admit that I haven't read everything in my library, but I feel smarter just walking in it!

It stinks of trains and that chili with the chocolate in it. Ooooh, books!" he exclaimed suddenly, making a beeline for the small library. (Al)

Flirtation is a circulating library, in which we seldom ask twice for the same volume.

You could tell from the books whether a library was meant for show or not. Books that were used had an open, interested feel to them, even if closed and neatly lined up on a shelf in strict order with their fellows. You felt as though the book took as much interest in you as you did in it and was willing to help when you reached for it.

What a place to be in is an old library! It seems as though all the souls of all the writers that have bequeathed their labours to these Bodleians were reposing here as in some dormitory, or middle state. I do not want to handle, to profane the leaves, their winding-sheets. I could as soon dislodge a shade. I seem to inhale learning, walking amid their foliage; and the odor of their old moth-scented coverings is fragrant as the first bloom of the sciential apples which grew amid the happy orchard.

Like the lark that soars in the air, first singing, then silent, content with the last sweetness that satiates it, such seemed to me that image, the imprint of the Eternal Pleasure.

If the library in the morning suggests an echo of the severe and reasonable wishful order of the world, the library at night seems to rejoice in the world's essential, joyful muddle.

To slide into the domed reading room at ten each morning, specially in summer, off the hot street outside, was a sensation as delicious as dropping into the water off the concrete edge of the Fitzroy Baths.

America, why are your libraries full of tears?

A deserted library in the morning - there's something about it that really gets to me. All possible words and ideas are there, resting peacefully.

A good library will never be too neat, or too dusty, because somebody will always be in it, taking books off the shelves and staying up late reading them.

Walking the stacks in a library, dragging your fingers across the spines -- it's hard not to feel the presence of sleeping spirits.