“For a moment I was distracted. Books always did that to me... I liked the creamy pages, the smell of ink, all the secrets locked inside.”

“I love the smell of book ink in the morning.”

“I love the smell of a new book, but I prefer inhaling fresh bottles of ink and glue. They get me more lightheaded – unless I read the book.”

“The way yousaid "I love you"said "I'll never sleep with you"said "I will always"kept a list of all your favorite moments in a composition book and would underline the ones involving me with blue ink”

“Then I'd crawl back into bed, smelling her all around me, and tell myself that next time, I would lock that window. But I never did.”

“When I was five I learned to read. Books were a miracle to me - white pages, black ink, and new worlds and different friends in each one. To this day, I relish the feeling of cracking a binding for the first time, the anticipation of where I'll go and whom I'll meet inside.”