"A home without books is a
body without soul."
Marcus Tullius Cicero
If
Cicero is right then my home has a whole lotta soul.
Paperbacks
spill across every surface in here, my room. Little stacks of them on my floor,
my desk, my shelves.
One day I might even read them all.
I’ve got a problem, it would seem.
A book-specific kleptomaniac-ish type of problem. Whenever I find that I’ve stumbled absentmindedly into a bookshop – and this happens far too often - it’s not an option to simply leave empty handed.
Three books seems to do it.
Why three books?
I don’t know. It just feels right, okay?
There’s just something about the number three that feels right, you know? Plato believed that there are three parts to the soul - maybe that explains it. I need a book for each part of my soul. It’s actually really profound and Romantic and lovely…
I don’t know. It just feels right, okay?
There’s just something about the number three that feels right, you know? Plato believed that there are three parts to the soul - maybe that explains it. I need a book for each part of my soul. It’s actually really profound and Romantic and lovely…
...But
I also might just be greedy.
Never
listen to the excuses of an uncontrollable bibliophile.
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