Christopher Isherwood Quotes

Give me a bed and a book and I am happy.

This is my idea of heaven, coming home and watching the news.

Woke up this morning with a terrific urge to lie in bed all day and read.

His books were the closest thing he had to furniture and he lived in them the way other men live in easy chairs.

I'm happy to be at home with the kids, in my flannel pajamas; that's a treat.

It's not a joke: I really do like being at home.

I'm a real low profile guy. So a date night for me is kind of curled up at home and watching something... have a nice glass of wine, a nice meal and we're all set.

My ideal summer day was reading on the porch.

My idea of a night out is actually a night in - in pajamas, with a good book or playing 'Mario Kart.' It's not that glamorous.

Most evenings I'll light a few candles, get snuggled on the sofa, and read a magazine.

She liked to sit on the front porch in the afternoons and read books she'd checked out from the library. Aside from coffee, reading was her only indulgence.

The hours between eight in the evening and one or two in the morning have always been my magic hours. Against the blue candlewick bedspread the white pages of my open book, illuminated by a circle of lamplight, were the gateway to another world.

Some things are better when it’s raining. Like reading. Or sleeping. Or this.” “Lying in bed with me?

What on earth could be more luxurious than a sofa, a book, and a cup of coffee?...Was ever anything so civil?

I get a warm feeling among my books.

In this job, there are some simple pleasures that really help you cope. One is books, I mean, books are a great escape. Books are a way to get your mind on something else.

Only picture to yourself a nice soft wife on a sofa with good fire, & books & music.

If I'm alone at home, I get increasingly restless, bothered by the idea that I'm missing some crucial encounter out there somewhere. But if I'm left by myself in someone else's place, I often find myself a nice sense of peace engulfing me. I love sinking into an unfamiliar sofa with whatever book happens to be lying nearby.

A day out-of-doors, someone I loved to talk with, a good book and some simple food and music - that would be rest.

Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa around, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in

Fireside happiness, to hours of ease Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.

The rosy hearth, the lamplight's narrow beam, The meditation that is rather dream, With looks that lose themselves in cherished looks; The hour of steaming tea and banished books; The sweetness of the evening at an end, The dear fatigue, and right to rest attained, And worshipped expectation of the night,— Oh, all these things, in unrelenting flight, My dream pursues through all the vain delays, Impatient of the weeks, mad at the days!

I'd go somewhere where no one spoke. I would take a stack of books up to my hips, and I'd read nonstop. And I'd be reading naked.

As long as I'm reading, I'm at home.

To encounter a fine book and have time to read it is a wonderful thing.