"I read for pleasure and that is the moment I learn the most."
William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
From The Neverending Story, by Michael Ende
“If you have never spent whole afternoons with burning ears and rumpled hair,
forgetting the world around you over a book, forgetting cold and hunger --
“If you have never read secretly under the bedclothes with a flashlight,
because your father or mother or some other well-meaning person has switched off the lamp
on the plausible ground that it was time to sleep because you had to get up so early --
“If you have never wept bitter tears because a wonderful story has come to an end
and you must take your leave of the characters with whom you have shared so many adventures,
whom you have loved and admired, for whom you have hoped and feared,
and without whose company life seems empty and meaningless --
“If such things have not been part of your own experience,
you probably won’t understand what Bastian did next.”