The Starting Point Is A Question.

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

One Can Transform A Place By Reading In It.

I Like To Imagine That, On The Day After My Last, My Library And I Will Crumble Together, So That Even When I Am No More I'll Still Be With My Books.

And Sometimes, When The Stars Are Kind, We Read With An Intake Of Breath, With A Shudder, As If Someone Or Something Had 'walked Over Our Grave,' As If A Memory Had Suddenly Been Rescued From A Place Deep Within Us - The Recognition Of Something We Never Knew Was There, Or Of Something We Vaguely Felt As A Flicker Or A Shadow, Whose Ghostly Form Rises And Passes Back Into Us Before We Can See What It Is, Leaving Us Older And Wiser.

Every Text Assumes A Reader.