“I've yet to find the exact word to describe the enjoyment that an evening spent riffling through old pattern books can bring.”
“I look at life like a big book and sometimes you get half way through it and go 'Even though I've been enjoying it, I've had enough. Give us another book”
“Learning to decipher words had only added to the pleasures of holding spines and turning pages, measuring the journey to the end with a thumb-riffle, poring over frontispieces. Books! Opening with a crackle of old glue, releasing perfume; closing with a solid thump.”
“It's like she looks right through me or into my soul or something. I can't even find the words to describe how i feel.”
“From all old seamy throats of elders, musty books, I've salvaged not a word.”
“For the first time, I smelled her. I can't describe the smell. Flowery, yet somehow musty, like a beautiful woman with the soul of an old book.”