Previous Quote Previous Quote

Suzy Davies Quotes

Next Quote Next Quote
Image of the quote is loading... SaveSave Books are a portable kind of time travel. We go back as well as forward when we read them. When we come back into the now, after being immersed in worlds previously unknown to us, we find ourselves, transformed. Touched by their magic, nothing we ever perceived beforehand remains quite the same. - Quote by Suzy Davies

Books are a portable kind of time travel. We go back as well as forward when we read them. When we come back into the now, after being immersed in worlds previously unknown to us, we find ourselves, transformed. Touched by their magic, nothing we ever perceived beforehand remains quite the same.

Suzy Davies
Copy LinkCopy Link
Copy QuoteCopy Quote
Copy ImageCopy Image
Download Image of QuoteDownload Image

About The Quote

Related Authors

Related Topics

More Quotes From Suzy Davies

It was back home that The Northern Lights cast these wondrous rainbows in the snow, and where Snugs used to play tag with the huge curtain of shining light that ran, even faster than the wind, across the vast snow-covered landscape.
Suzy Davies
I can see the caravanserai, like a mirage in the distance. The heat hums. I thought I saw water. What would you have on these trade winds for your comfort?
Suzy Davies
Oh my boy, you are so huggable and snuggable, is that why they callyou Snugs Bear?”“I’ve simply always been Snugs,” Snugs said, with an unusual, mysterious air, for it was nearly time to go to bed.
Suzy Davies
The song was a sea-shanty, and Snugs loved that kind of song. The music had an accordion, and the tune reminded him of the ship, and the songs Captain LightOwler played, when he was off duty, about pirates and the baddies on the sea.
Suzy Davies
He was just about to turn the light off, when there was a heavy, “Tappety, tap, tappety, tap,” on the door. It was the kind of loud sound that could only be made with a hoof. A moose’s hoof, that is." - Snugs The Snow Bear
Suzy Davies
There are bald patches, like Daddy's head, on the pebble-dash, higher up than last year. I have picked off the stones. (I was a graffiti artist. No words, no pictures. The trace of identity marked in spaces.
Suzy Davies
I was climbing high, high up Pen Dinas Head among the sparkling yellow gorse, sea birds and white heather, with the oily sheep huddled together against the wind
Suzy Davies
She hands me an ornament of The Virgin Mary. "Pray to the Holy Mary, Mother of God!" I notice she has a gold chain round her neck. It has the holy cross and a shamrock
Suzy Davies
Report Quote Report Quote Report Quote Submit Quote Submit Quote Submit Quote