It had been startling and disappointing to me to find out that story books had
been written by people, that books were not natural wonders, coming up of
themselves like grass. Yet regardless of where they came from, I cannot remember
a time when I was not in love with them--with the books themselves, cover and
binding and the paper they were printed on, with their smell and their weight
and with their possession in my arms, captured and carried off to myself. Still
illiterate, I was ready for them, committed to all the reading I could give
them. — by
Eudora Welty
I just love books, my mother said that the very first book she gave me, I ate! Must have
tasted really good, as I have never gotten over my love of books!
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