Philosophy Book To Read Novels & Stories

I even found the karma sutra amongst what I can only classify as the ‘self help’ section, opening it and then quickly closing it in case Enzo or his mother entered the room. A large book at the end of the shelf entitled “The Power and Responsibility of Men” caught my eye. It seemed to be more weathered than the rest of the books, but I didn't get why. “Who would be drawn to a book like that?” I asked myself, pulling it from the shelf.

I wonder and then my eyes fall on the wall clock which is hanging on the wall in front of me. It's 7:34 PM. I gulp and go inside. The door of the room is still open and I eventually forget about it. I see two bookshelves on the right side of the room. I walk towards them and scan the books. The Silent Patient, The Art Of Dealing With People, Criminal Psychology, Bad Science, The Power Of Your Conscious Mind, Thinking Fast And Slow, Atomic Habits, Rationality, Talking To Strangers, Righteous Mind, The Theory Of Everything.

Glancing back to the photo, I gasped, “You’re Marcus Aurelius? No, no, no, it can’t be him.” I refused to believe that the Blood Eagle King was Marcus Aurelius. I read so much about him. He was the last great ruler when Rome was in its Golden Age. I went to the bookshelf on my left. The books were mostly about Romans. There were different ones like Sun Tzu’s Art of War and Machiavelli’s The Prince. There was also a book, Meditations, written by Marcus Aurelius himself. “I could really use your wisdom for my crappy life.”

, He said and I froze. How did he see me?! I made sure to be quiet as possible. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer before going in. He was browsing through a book in his large book shelf. "Are you familiar with 'Leviathan'?", He asked as he turned to face me. "Thomas Hobbes, 1651... yes", I replied and nodded. I caught the flash of surprise in his eyes but he quickly masked it. He isn't aware that my major in college is philosophy.

The books on the shelf were neatly arranged but the frayed edges and the little tears on the bottom of most of the books gave out that they’d been read a couple times. Adrian didn't particularly strike me as someone who would love to read but I guess you can't always judge a person by their outward appearance. I traced my fingers along the spines, the titles ranging widely from classic literature, to mindset guides then to business strategy books. One title in particular caught my eye and I pulled it out : Good to Great by Jim Collins. I flipped through the pages not so sure of what I was looking for, because I wasn't interested in reading the book at the time, but it was an appropriate dist

Fucking idiot. I was sitting outside, perched on the stone bench beneath the ivy-covered archway, reading The 48 Laws of Power—my favorite book and the only thing I managed to bring with me from home. Honestly, it's the only reason I haven't lost my mind yet. That book isn't jusr philosophy; it's basically the blueprint for survival in a place like this. And it's been working. Slowly. Strategically.

“I do. Although, on many nights, I simply like to read with only the lamp on, and the moonlight shimmering overhead. It’s utterly enchanting and so peaceful.” She could picture him like that, reclining on the day bed, a book in hand, the moonlight filtering on him. So sexy. She shook her head to clear her mind from those tantalizing images of him. “What sort of books do you like to read?” she asked. “I read a lot of philosophy—Dostoevsky, Plato, Socrates, Kant...” “That’s…deep,” she said, still skimming over the shelves. “I also read thrillers. Dan Brown, Lee Child, and Matthew Reilly.”

I opened the drawer and found a book. Not romance. Not dark. Not even fiction. The Consolation of Philosophy. I frowned. Of all the things I expected Zander Darkmore to read, this wasn’t one of them. I lay back against the pillows and started reading. The writing was simple. Practical. Almost gentle. A strange contrast to the man downstairs. I was halfway through the book when I heard it. A knock. I froze. Then another. Louder. I set the book aside and opened the door.

I like taking my time, that way, I can get used to the idea of living with Xander. Sitting behind the counter in the bookstore, I listen to Vincent talking to his cars while I place an order for new books. One of those books is The Art of War by Sun Tsu. I want to read it and see why Alexei loves it so much. My thoughts turn to the BBQ, and I must admit, I enjoyed it a lot. And Rosemarie was right. Everyone seemed pretty normal. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe guns and men smoking cigars while plotting the end of the world?

He was always someone who believed that actions and experience was far greater than any words written in books, though he was not going to dismiss the knowledge one could gain from reading. He felt a sense of nostalgia as he read through it, there was one quote from the book in particular that he had always remembered, it goes like this; “Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great man must, I think, have great sadness on earth.” He did not know why he had the phrase outside of his mind already. There are certain philosophies that he had always lean toward better than others. He had adapted some of traditional beliefs and way of living