“His gaze settles on the discarded book. He leans, reaching until his fingertips graze Dante's Inferno, still on its bed of folded sheets. "What have we here?" he asks."Required reading," I say."It's a shame they do that," he says, thumbing through the pages. "Requirement ruins even the best of books.”

“It’s a shame they do that,” he says, thumbing through the pages. “Requirement ruins even the best of books.”

“You're ruining that book!" He pointed to the page I'd torn out. "That's a perfectly good book!" Holding his gaze, I reached down and ripped another page out. "I'm making roses." "Well, it's my book." "Sorry." I tore out another.”

“Uh, what are you doing?''What does it look like I'm doing?' Jake asks, settling into the seat beside me. The bus jerks forward. 'I'm sitting beside you.''No, you're not. Your seat is in the middle. Nice try, though.'He has the audacity to ignore me, sets his book bag on his lap and rummages through it. After a minute, he pulls out a folded sheet of paper and hands it to me.I unfold it. 'A love letter? How sweet.''No.' He turns pink. 'It's just something I found on the Internet-''Porn? You shouldn't have.”

“He says he knows someone isn't from the same race as he when that person looks at his library and asks, 'Have you read all of these?' A true book lover knows that, no, he hasn't read them all. It's about the process, it's about when the right reference comes up, you have the right book to go to; it's about never being without something to occupy your eyes and mind.”

“That's the question isn't it? Is Henry Blaire real? Its definitely what I get asked the most. And all I can say is -- what do you define as real? The pages of the book are real, so therefore he is too.”