These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves. From each of them goes out its own voice… and just as the touch of a button on our set will fill the room with music, so by taking down one of these volumes and opening it, one can call into range the voice of a man or woman far distant in time and space, and hear him or her speaking to us, mind to mind, heart to heart.
Set your pace to a stroll. Stop whenever you want. Interrupt, jump back and forth, I won’t mind. These books should be as easy as laughter. It is stuffed with small things to take away.
Books are the bees which carry the quickening pollen from one to another mind.
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