“The book and I secret ourselvesBehind the paneled door.We merge our thoughts in retrospectOf ancient mystic lore.We spend a pleasant quiet hour,Nor know it passed us by...The easy chair, the shaded lamp,A well-loved book and I.”

“Oh kindly books! Like true and trusted friends: What blessed cheer your presence with us lends. Whene'er we spend a pleasant hour with you. We find renewed delight, and treasure's new. Dear Friendly Books.”

“Let me begin with a heartfelt confession.I admit it. I am a biblioholic, one who loves books and whose life would seem incomplete without them. I am an addict, with a compulsive need to stop by nearly any bookstore I pass in order to get my fix. Books are an essential part of my life, the place where I have spent many unforgettable moments. For me, reading is one of the most enjoyable ways to pass a rainy afternoon or a leisurely summer day. I crave the knowledge and insights that truly great books bring into my life and can spend transported hours scouring used book stores for volumes which "I simply must have". I love the smell and feel of well-loved books and the look of a bookcase full of books waiting to be taken down and read.”

“I spend many hours in conversation with wonderful characters from fantastic books.”

“All I can think is: His head is gone and I don’t know how to merge with the Book.”

“She especially liked my bedside lamp, which had a five-sided porcelain shade. Unlit, the shade seemed like bumpy ivory. Lit, each panel came to life with the image of a bird: a blue jay, a cardinal, wrens, an oriole, and a dove. Kathleen turned it off and on again, several times. "How does it do that?""The panels are called lithophanes." I knew because I'd asked my father about the lamp, years ago. "The porcelain is carved and painted. You can see it if you look inside the shade.""No," she said. "It's magic. I don't want to know how it's done.”