So many books. So little time. It goes on whispering to you from the wall.
Books perfume and give weight to a room.
Seated in my library, I live in a time machine. Best of all, I can do it all again, at any moment. The books are there. I have only to reach up to the shelves and take them down to relive the moments I have loved. I imagine myself stranded in some isolated place, knowing before hand that I would be so banished, and allowed to choose only one book.