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Shubham
https://www.goodreads.com/shubham1729
“He was no lover in a worldly sense; the only love he knew was that of divine understanding, of taking a whole life into its depths as if they were his own. From this, the greatest pain, the greatest happiness is born: the hope that we too will one day be understood, strangers will accept our words, our lives, as if they were their own.”
― Skylark
― Skylark
“There are books so alive that you're always afraid that while you weren't reading, the book has gone and changed, has shifted like a river.”
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“The difficulty will be to keep her from learning too fast and too much. She is always sitting with her little nose burrowing into books. She doesn't read them, Miss Minchin; she gobbles them up as if she were a little wolf instead of a little girl. She is always starving for new books to gobble...”
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“It seemed as if the train would never depart. Local trains are always somehow overzealous. At first they panic everyone into believing they are just about to thunder off down the track with an almighty jolt, then, at the very last minute, there is always some improbable hitch.”
― Skylark
― Skylark
“Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.”
― Another Time
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.”
― Another Time
Shubham’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Shubham’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
3,016 books
|
3,508 friends
175 books
|
115 friends
11 books
|
25 friends
3 books
|
27 friends
74 books
|
192 friends
1 book
|
89 friends
3 books
|
70 friends
3 books
|
59 friends
More friends…
Favorite Genres
Art, Classics, Crime, Ebooks, Fiction, Gay and Lesbian, History, Humor and Comedy, Music, Mystery, Non-fiction, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychology, Religion, Romance, and Spirituality
Polls voted on by Shubham
Lists liked by Shubham