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11,417 voters
Maybe motherhood wasn’t always being the person your child leaned on, but finding the person they needed when you weren’t enough.
“Teachers assign it, and parents are happy because their kids are reading something of 'quality.' But it's forcing kids to read books like that that make them think they hate reading.”
― The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry
― The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry
“You tell a kid he doesn't like to read, and he'll believe you”
― The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry
― The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry
“We are not quite novels.
We are not quite short stories.
In the end, we are collected works.”
― The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry
We are not quite short stories.
In the end, we are collected works.”
― The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry
“Nothing sounds better tonight than living my small life well.”
― A Million Junes
― A Million Junes
“It was a pleasure to burn.
It was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blackened and changed. With the brass nozzle in his fists, with this great python spitting its venomous kerosene upon the world, the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history. With his symbolic helmet numbered 451 on his stolid head, and his eyes all orange flame with the thought of what came next, he flicked the igniter and the house jumped up in a gorging fire that burned the evening sky red and yellow and black. He strode in a swarm of fireflies. He wanted above all, like the old joke, to shove a marshmallow on a stick in the furnace, while the flapping pigeon-winged books died on the porch and lawn of the house. While the books went up in sparkling whirls and blew away on a wind turned dark with burning.”
― Fahrenheit 451
It was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blackened and changed. With the brass nozzle in his fists, with this great python spitting its venomous kerosene upon the world, the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history. With his symbolic helmet numbered 451 on his stolid head, and his eyes all orange flame with the thought of what came next, he flicked the igniter and the house jumped up in a gorging fire that burned the evening sky red and yellow and black. He strode in a swarm of fireflies. He wanted above all, like the old joke, to shove a marshmallow on a stick in the furnace, while the flapping pigeon-winged books died on the porch and lawn of the house. While the books went up in sparkling whirls and blew away on a wind turned dark with burning.”
― Fahrenheit 451
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These Teachers Read- An Educhums Book Group
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We like books. We love our group. We want to talk about more than just our tiny vents (although we love those too).
Samantha’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Samantha’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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