Novel & Cerita Book Quotes Highlighted

'Book forty-three of the Kingsmen Chronicles. He leaned the book back towards him and pulled it from the shelf with grace. He smiled as he looked at it in his hand, his eyes carefully considering the intricate pattern of the gold decorating the cover. Gingerly, he cracked it open, leading through the pages until at last he found the desired portion. "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not laid hold of it," he read aloud, proclaiming the fate of the nations.

Knowing would make it all too real. A box fell halfway down, its bottom giving way, and books scattered across the living room floor like dead birds. Dorian’s classics — Shakespeare, Brontë, Byron, Poe. Works he loved, that he reread every year, that he quoted at dinner as if they were old friends. I knelt down, picking them up one by one with trembling hands. My fingertips touched the worn covers, the yellowed pages, the notes he had written in the margins in his slanted handwriting.

“What did you say?” “It was a code. 18-L-3-20,” I recited from memory. “I found the book in your library. Shakespeare. On the page the code led to, there was a pinprick, a tiny hole through a single word.” I took a shaky breath, finally giving the ghost a name. “The word was ‘betrayal’.”

" he said happily and went straight to the Cashier. The couple just walked around while Maria, she opened the wrapped Book. "Victor Luis Smith." He read the Author's name, and introduction of the book as he lined up approaching the cashier. "Her angel eyes touched my soul. Fino al nostro prossimo incontro" he read its second Page with a quote. It was also a big help that he had Retrograde Amensia anyway because all his bad memories, all the dirty and muddy accusations against him made him no longer worry about how low class he was then. He saw the couple happily sitting next to him and he laughed because they looked like children.

I said softly. She unwrapped it with the same gentleness, peeling back the paper to reveal a small bronze bookmark wrapped in tissue. It was old, beautifully engraved, with a quote etched in elegant lettering: You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. — Jane Austen. Annie went completely silent, running her fingertips across the metal like she was trying to memorize every curve. "Nate…" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "It's beautiful."

I rаіѕеd аn eyebrow іn intrigue wоndеrіng what thе hell hе wаѕ dоіng. “Oреn uр your Kіndlе аnd tell mе уоur bеѕt bооkmаrkеd ԛuоtеѕ, I’m gоіng tо wrіtе thеm all оvеr so when you lооk down аll you’ll ѕее аrе the ѕwееt wоrdѕ that mаkе you swoon.”

“Annotate? What’s that?” Words danced in her head, but she couldn’t string them together to make a meaningful statement. Book lovers would understand. “Underlining or highlighting a sentence,” Camilla muttered, showing him what she had done on the book. She had also drawn a few love shapes around it because it was swoon worthy. Her husband’s expression had moved from shock to confused. “It’s a line from the book I’d love to remember.” “Why?” Camilla explained the concept as much as she could. Highlighting with coloured pens was one of her favourite things to do. The bedazzled look on Alek’s face worsened.

That scene made me smiled bitterly, I miss the times where don’t have any problems, where father always buy me books, sing for me every night, and read books loudly. I’m at the end of the book when I noticed something, scribbles of letters and words are visible in the last page, I got up and find a pen and a paper, I sat down and flip the pages until I reach the first page, I can’t believe it there are scribbles write down the key words in every pages, hoping that it might help me building my life. The key words that I got are “Book #1- birthday, Photo Album #6- highlighted me, Book #7- Look closely, Photo- the answer to all your doubts” my head hurts reading these clues a lot of books have

"You'll find the margin note." He went through the door. Down the path. The second step on his side of the hedge didn't creak. She went back inside and upstairs and found the book where she'd left it on her desk. She opened to page 212. There, in pencil, in handwriting she didn't recognise but would from now on: a sentence underlined and next to it, in the margin, five words. This is the one I mean. The sentence underlined was this: He was still too young to know that the heart's memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and that thanks to this artifice we manage to endure the burden of the past.

She reached her apartment door, and there it was: A small, brown-wrapped package sitting neatly on the mat. No name. No return address. Curious, she brought it inside and opened it slowly. Inside was a journal. Hardback. Deep blue cover, smooth to the touch. The pages were blank, unlined, waiting to be filled. But it wasn’t the emptiness inside that caught her breath. It was the quote embossed across the front in delicate gold lettering: “Some people rise from the ashes. Others remember they were the fire all along.” Sophia stared at it, a quiet smile curving her lips.