Books

Books. They come in all sizes. In all varieties. In all subjects. Serious, funny, quaint, charming, tasteful, cumbersome, spellbinding, romantic, mysterious, horrific, historic, political, religious, spiritual, educative and many more.

What is it that you love in a book?

I love the smell of books. Especially old books which have not been opened for a long time. They have a warm, musty smell that welcomes you, like a cup of scalding hot coffee on a winter evening. The kind of smell that would make you want to snuggle up in a corner and get yourself buried in its pages. New books smell alltogether different. They remind you of a fresh breath of mountain air, the early morning dew mingled with the freshness of young grass, flowers in bloom, the first flush of spring…

Books have dimension. They are a world in itself. A kind of place you can hang around. Explore. Hike. Learn. Discover. Get lost in. A world apart. Like a fifth dimension.

Books are like friends. They are there, when you need them. A solace, a silent listener and participant that transcends your thoughts to another level.

Books are like whores. They need to be circulated, so that the maximum number of people can enjoy it.

But they are like virgin whores. Each experience is a joy that cannot be replicated.

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