My job right now is very numbers-oriented. But I love words. I love the way that hardcovers feel. Or the way that old books smell. During college, one of my favorite way to spend a Sunday morning is to rummage through a book yard sale (after a HUGE brunch, of course) – I’d buy books for $1 or $2, and sometimes the really old editions would have lovely pencil script inside the cover, and I’d imagine who before me have read and loved the story.
Anyhow, this is a quotation that I’ve found, and I love it.
When I was little, my ambition was to grow up to be a book. Not a writer. People can be killed like ants. Writers are not hard to kill either. But not books. However systematically you try to destroy them, there is always a chance that a copy will survive and continue to enjoy a shelf-life in some corner of the an out-of-the-way library somewhere, in Rekjavik, Valladolid, or Vancouver.
– Amos Oz
How do people come up with such beautiful passages? Seriously.