"Gold, silver, precious stones, beautiful clothing, marbled homes, cultivated fields, painted canvases, decorated horses and other similar things, possess silent and superficial pleasure. Books please the core of one's mind." -- Petrarch (circa 1350)
Here, I am, writing about books. Again. Books, books, and more books. Books dominate our home, occupying shelves, dresser tops, counters, and floor space. Occasionally, I force myself to get rid of a few books, recylcing them to library drives and thrift stores. But there are more, many more, keepers, those books with which I cannot bear to part.
I wonder, not for the first time, how people who don't read, who don't immerse themselves in books, survive. How do they feed their souls? How do they learn? And, perhaps, they don't. Perhaps they merely exist.
This I know for sure: books are more than just words on paper. They are thoughts to lift, feelings to ponder, worlds to explore.
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