The Art of Reading

Do not read to cultivate the spirit of dispute and argument in yourself, nor to accept everything that passes before you, nor to find in it matter for chatter and jesting; rather, read to sift out truths and gain insight into things.

Books are of many kinds: some are to be tasted only, some are fit to be devoured, and a few are to be chewed and digested; that is, some deserve to be read in parts and passages, some deserve only a surface skimming, and there is the small number that merits reading with care and reflection.

There are some books that are read by proxy — that is, they are read in the form of extracts chosen or abridged by someone else. These, upon my life, are usually the cheapest sort of books and the poorest in substance; for books, when summarized, are like water when distilled: the little that is useful is drawn off, and the much that is worthless is left behind.

Reading makes a man complete, company makes him quick of wit, while writing makes him exact and closely attentive. In writing he needs a retentive memory, in company a kindled mind, and in reading a penetrating thought, so that he may learn what has escaped his knowledge.

The branches of learning are of many kinds: "history" teaches wisdom, "poetry" refines the feelings, "mathematics" sharpens the wits, "philosophy" prompts one to plumb the secrets of nature, and "logic" imparts skill in persuasion.