What we read and why we do so defines us in a profound way. You are what you read, I suppose. Browsing through someone’s library is like peeking into their DNA.
The America I love still exists at the front desks of our public libraries.
Kurt Vonnegut (via pegasusbooks)
[Just barely, just barely.]
Digestion of words as well; I often read aloud to myself in my writing corner in the library, where no one can hear me, for the sake of better savouring the text, so as to make it all the more mine.
He had no money and no home; he lived entirely on the road of the racing circuit, sleeping in empty stalls, carrying with him only a saddle, his rosary, and his books….The books were the closest thing he had to furniture, and he lived in them the way other men live in easy chairs.