"Shelves spanned all four walls, floor to ceiling, and although it was shadowy inside -- the windows were cloaked by thick, draping curtains that brushed the ground -- I could see they were lined with very old books, the sort with marbled endpapers, gold-dipped edges, and black cloth binding. My fingers positively itched to drift at length along their spines, to arrive at one whose lure I could not pass, to puck it down, to inch it open, then close my eyes and inhale the soul-sparking scent of old and literate dust."
(The Distant Hours by Kate Morton, Part 1, Page 63)
"Shelves spanned all four walls, floor to ceiling, and although it was shadowy inside -- the windows were cloaked by thick, draping curtains that brushed the ground -- I could see they were lined with very old books, the sort with marbled endpapers, gold-dipped edges, and black cloth binding. My fingers positively itched to drift at length along their spines, to arrive at one whose lure I could not pass, to puck it down, to inch it open, then close my eyes and inhale the soul-sparking scent of old and literate dust."
2 comments:
ooo, a great teaser for a bibliophile!
Wonderful words, and wonderful picture. Think of the days when people would read all those books.
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