In Any Of My Pages In Any

The Association Of Books With Their Readers Is Unlike Any Other Between Objects And Their Users.

Old Or New, The Only Sign I Always Try To Rid My Books Of (usually With Little Success) Is The Price-sticker That Malignant Booksellers Attach To The Backs. These Evil White Scabs Rip Off With Difficulty, Leaving Leprous Wounds And Traces Of Slime To Which Adhere The Dust And Fluff Of Ages, Making Me Wish For A Special Gummy Hell To Which The Inventor Of These Stickers Would Be Condemned.

In Our Day, Computer Technology And The Proliferation Of Books On Cd-rom Have Not Affected - As Far As Statistics Show - The Production And Sale Of Books In Their Old-fashioned Codex Form.

Readers, Censors Know, Are Defined By The Books They Read.

Through Ignorance, Through Faith, Through Intelligence, Through Trickery And Cunning, Through Illumination, The Reader Rewrites The Text With The Same Words Of The Original But Under Another Heading, Re-creating It, As It Were, In The Very Act Of Bringing It Into Being.