Love Reading Books Mga Nobela at Kwento

"As far as I remember, you've been reading that damn novel since I've been talking to you. What do people enjoy in reading words?" "Because it's awesome." "How? You can rather watch a movie than read books." I slapped the book out of her hand. "This book… 'The Badboy's Pre-planned Future Bride' by 'Gift Odulesi', it's awesome. You really should read her books. Some people prefer reading books than watching movies." She rolled her eyes and picked the book from the floor. "Oh, really? People like who?" I took a handful of chips and threw it into my mouth, munching it.

She made me feel safe and welcomed, something I was gradually losing. I watched as she flipped through the pages of a book, her eyes scanning the pages like she was feasting on them. “Do you really have to finish reading that today?” I asked, crossing my arms as I stared at her. Apart from the fact that she loves cooking, she's obsessed with reading novels as well. Kiera is a book lover, someone that could finish a whole book in a single day. She raised her head slowly, meeting my gaze with a graceful smile, “Yes, I am.” she replied curtly, returning back to the book.

Sprinted to the door, I pulled it open, not expecting it to open, but it did, causing my heart to swell in joy. Ambling to the shelf, my eyes darted round the various book covers. Fiction was my favorite book to read because the best thing about reading was to be able to escape from your life, to be able to read hundreds or even thousands of other lives. Non-fiction does not have that power, it does not change you the way fiction does. To me, if you are not affected somehow, even if it is the slightest change, you are not reading the right book. I would love to think that every novel I have read has become a part of me and created who I am in a sense.

was my next question because I suddenly remembered what her room looked like and why those books were wasting away when she spends all her day practicing archery and swordsmanship. “She only likes the smell of books, she doesn’t read them” he revealed to my surprise and a scoff fell off my lips. I couldn’t understand the weird behavior she has. How can she like the smell of books but not the books themselves? I really couldn’t understand how her own brain works because I personally don’t like tiring myself out. I hate anything tasking except horse riding and swimming so I avoid every other things. I just focus on reading books and also love knitting so much. If I were to be at home with my f

"Thank you for letting me read your collection of books." This time Lexie was more used to it and she wasn't afraid at all as she walked down the stone steps to Rafe's room. She already knew exactly what was waiting for her down there. And now she felt really enthusiastic, instead of being frightened by the darkness that surrounded her before the lights around her flashed one by one. “I'm the only one who usually reads those books. Glad if someone else reads it too.” "What book do you like?" “I read all the books. Novels, books about business, books about autos, anything. At least I have to enrich myself with knowledge so that other people can't fool me.”

I’ve always been crazy about books. Ever since I was a kid, I’d spend hours in the library, running my fingers over the covers, breathing in that old paper smell. It’s like the stories were part of me. My name is Eliza, and I run this small library in a quiet town. No one comes here much, which is fine by me. It gives me time to be alone with my books. But my love for them has turned into something more. I have this secret fetish. I dream about the characters jumping out of the pages and touching me, holding me, doing things to me that make my body heat up. It’s embarrassing to admit, but just thinking about it gets me excited. My heart beats fast, and I feel a wetness between my legs that I

“Then what are some of your favorites?” “Would it be cheesy to say that all of these are?” She pulled out a copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude. “You’ve read all these? Impressive. I don’t know if I’ve read thirty percent of the books on my shelf.” “I only keep the ones I like. I have a rule that if I don’t read a book within a year of buying it, I donate it.” She laughed. “If I had that rule, I wouldn’t have any books left.” Placing the book in her hand back onto the shelf, she continued looking before taking out another one. “Lady Chatterley’s Lover, huh? I have read this one.”

“He read whenever he could. He always looked forward to the books you sent him - they were his prized possession.” Madame James’ smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m glad he enjoyed them. It took me days to pick out which ones to send.” Warming to the subject, Nyla explained, “He taught me how to read. Menhits aren’t supposed to know, after all, but he thought it was important enough to break the rules. I loved the books you sent, too.” Michael snorted. “I can’t believe anything was more important than the rules to him. He was a stickler; that’s how he got into this mess.”

Something that is abrupt or quick, one that has their love prevailing at all costs. "Sadly in most books, yes." She sighed, not looking happy, "but you see that's not healthy." "So why do you read them?" "We all need an escape, don't we? To believe that these obsessive kinds of love will sweep us off our feet. Dreamy blue eyed gods falling in love with mere mortals." I nodded sadly. Our story is similar quite alright. The bus had come to a stop and as we came down she pressed a hardcover book in my hand and ran off.

The little old librarian with white curly hair, rimmed spectacles, and flowery dress smiles at me warmly across the tables when I pass her by and leaves me to browse. I must admit, I love the smell and aura of ancient books, the feeling of being surrounded by old, treasured pages. Back home my own library is my favourite place to spend time. Books retain some sort of presence from past readers, and it can be felt in the air all around me because I’m sensitive to energy vibrations in all things, be they living or not. A warm familiar sensation comes from books, like a gentle breeze on a hot day, or a soothing hug when you need it most, and that relaxes me. It’s because books are beloved thing