My Favorite Book Dedications

Welcome to my page of quotations that are from dedications in books. When authors put a little extra effort and creativity into the dedication rather than simply writing “For Someone,” it’s as if they adorn the entryway to their story with a welcoming porch light and garland. –ღTerri

For Beatrice —
Dead women tell no tales.
Sad men write them down.
~Lemony Snicket, The Grim Grotto, 2004

This book is dedicated to
and all the strong
black birds of promise
who defy the odds and gods
and sing their songs
~Maya Angelou, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, 1969

For my wife, our daughters, and our parents, and to the unending wonder of the continuum
~Nicholas A. Basbanes, A Splendor of Letters, 2003

To the Spirit:
Without whose assistance
Neither this book
Nor I
Would have been
~Alice Walker, The Color Purple, 1982

To you I owe more than to any other living being. In childhood, you were my Parent; in later life, my Teacher; in manhood, my Companion…
~Henry Ward Beecher, Lectures to Young Men, on Various Important Subjects, 1844

To Tim, with love —
so that the whole world will know
how much you mean to me
~Jodi Picoult, Salem Falls, 2001

For Tim, because I am at home in your heart
~Ellery Adams, Poisoned Prose, 2013

Lady Bird Johnson
Not all the soldiers were in Vietnam.
This one was in the White House.
~Rita Mae Brown, Dolley, 1994

To those who see trees.
~Douglas Wood, The Things Trees Know, 2005

To the men and women who wrote this book,
and speak to us here and now, of things without time;
and those who speak to us, here and now, from beyond the stars
~John K. Terres, Things Precious & Wild, 1991

At turn of year, when winter’s past
and spring’s at hand, I think at last
I understand. Then comes the night
when peepers shrill and geese in flight
gabble the moon. And then I say
that all I know can be stowed away
in an acorn cup. But this is plain:
That snow is snow and rain is rain,
that wind is change, that water ran
before earth felt the foot of man;
that flesh and blood of me are kinned
with grass and bush and tree and wind;
that love is sweet and salt are tears;
that days become the turning years;
that I am new and time is old;
that love is warm and hate is cold.
What more is there to understand
when winter’s past and spring’s at hand?

~Hal Borland, Hal Borland’s Book of Days, 1976

For Barbara, especially in Autumn
I gave you emeralds in May and amethysts in June;
July I gave you turquoise skies and silver stars and moon.
December will bring Diamonds, but before the frosty cold
I give you coal-hot rubies and October’s molten gold.
~Hal Borland, Sundial of the Seasons, 1964