“I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of any thing than of a book! — When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
How true this quote is! Without books, how are we to escape the things that grow so tedious? Books are, like Stephen King said, a “magical portal.” They can be brought anywhere to be read at nearly any time and even when reading them is not an option, it is deeply comforting to know that inside your bag or hidden underneath your coat is a nice thick copy of Gone with the Wind or a compact little piece by C.S. Lewis.
This blog is for me to vent my frustration at books that disappointed me and criticize authors that have let me down, but above all praise the works which have kept me fascinated, reading well past everyone else is asleep, and exalt the authors whose words have forever impacted my life. Whether or not anyone actually reads this is irrelevant, but people must never stop reading books, for, as Ray Bradbury stated, “There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.”