Must Read Books Fiction All Time Novels & Stories

"It’s wonderful. Now I can place more books on it." "Then you can buy more books," Felix added. I was amazed by the number of books he brought home. a box of books circulating around the internet that I’m definitely curious about. "Books are your own kind of drugs." "No, books are her babies," Jay corrected. They’re both right. Buying books is, for me, a form of addiction. Reading them transports me to different places. It makes me feel like I'm talking to people I've never met in my life. It entertained me in a good way, without any harm. Romances make me feel the kiss of true love. Horror, thrillers, and suspense chilled my bones from skull to toe. Historical fiction taught me a lot about

The deliberation was the deliberation of someone who had arrived and was now simply inhabiting the arrival. He was reading novels. Not the difficult novels he had read during the writing—the philosophical texts, the poetic sequences, the works of modernist difficulty that had fed the argument. Don was reading detective novels. He was reading the novels of Barbara Pym, which Caroline had recommended years ago and which he had never had time for. He was reading Anthony Powell's A Dance to the Music of Time, slowly, volume by volume, not because he was studying it but because he was enjoying the experience of being inside a long narrative that someone else had written.

“What’s your hobby?” “Do I have one?” I raised a question. “Well, everyone does. You must have something you truly enjoy doing,” “Hmmm… reading?” My brows creased. “Yes. That must be it. I love reading,” “What type of books are you into? Fiction? Nonfiction? Magazines? BL…” “Fiction,” I asserted, cutting him short. “Especially romance. It helps me live in the world I could only desire to live in with Jeremy. The kind of love and affection I crave exists only in fiction,”

It is Divergent, insurgent, and Allegiant first edition series, the notebook, The fault in our stars, and Shakespeare books. "I didn't know what kind of books you like, so I just picked the ones I think you might love"a voice startled me, and I placed my hand over my chest. "You scared me, " "Sorry," there is a dark grey wardrobe just behind the door. And a matt on the floor, a white round table at the corner. "It's fine really, I think I will read them. It's been a while since I have read an addictive book, maybe I will find one in these books. Who knows"I shrug, and sit on the bed.

"And what's your favorite?" "Oh that's too hard to choose sir. I mean of course I love classics like The Great Gatsby, 1984, and One Flew of the Cuckoo's Nest. I'm crazy about the James Bond books. But I have to say Misery is my favorite book. Stephen King is a genius." "So all that's told me is you read in high school and that's it. Aren't those all required reading?" "Daddy." I whispered. He took a long gulp from his glass. Sophia closed her eyes as though she was embarrassed.

Some of the books are in Latin and other foreign languages. I retrieve a copy of The Little Prince from the shelf and smile as I open the book and realize it’s a first edition. A very old book for sure, but one of my favorite books of all time. I learned a lot of life lessons reading that book as I grew up. And I read it at least once a year. It doesn’t really matter how old you are, that’s a must-read.

he asked, his gaze focused on me. I smiled, feeling my cheeks turn pink. "Well, I love spending time with my family. They mean everything to me," I said, feeling a sense of warmth spread throughout my body. "And I also love to read. It's a great escape for me." Carlos chuckled. "I can tell you're a bookworm. What's your favorite book?" "Oh, that's a tough one," I replied, thinking back to all the books I've read. "I would have to say 'Pride and Prejudice' by Jane Austen. It's a classic for a reason."

he watches my arms tremble with anger. I glare at him. "Stop being so damn bipolar. Pick up your fucking mess. I'm going back upstairs and I'll read a book or something." I grumble, turning on my heels and going back from where I had come from. ***** After an hour of reading an interesting novel, I shut the book and skim my fingers over the cover. Classic books and poems have always been my thing, but some of them are extremely hard to read. Shakespeare is my all time favorite author. Although he writes tragedies, and darkness, I absolutely adore the way he tells a tale. Each and every word of his wraps around your heart and tugs on a string. He brings so much emotion into what he writes.

I don't have a single book with me but that doesn't bother me. I can sleep when I get to the library. I step into the library and immediately feel self-conscious. I can't sleep, not with everyone bending over a book as if they are trying to stop a nuclear war. I stand by the bookshelf, hardly seeing the book and debating going back home. Another Friday night spent alone doesn't excite me. “Having trouble picking what you want?” A voice drawls behind me. I startle and gasp as I turn back. Zane.

he questions. I nod my head. "Yes," I say again. "I've always loved reading." "Book," he says in a gruff voice. "Liffatin. Can you repeat that back to me?"Liffatin," I repeat. "That's a beautiful word. You know, back in my kingdom there was a little shop called a library and it harbored many, many books. Some were sad, some were happy, some were full of action and tales of courageous princes and princesses, fictional tales of fire-breathing dragons and fairies and demons. A book is where imagination takes flight."