John Steinbeck + Coffee can do no wrong.
A Momentary Diversion on the Road to the Grave
A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying Nothing
To sit alone in the lamplight with a book spread out before you and hold intimate converse with men of unseen generations - such is pleasure beyond compare.
Yoshida Kenko
I ate them like salad, books were my sandwich for lunch, my tiffin and dinner and midnight munch. I tore out the pages, ate them with salt, doused them with relish, gnawed on the bindings, turned the chapters with my tongue! Books by the dozen, the score and the billion. I carried so many home I was hunchbacked for years. Philosophy, art history, politics, social science, the poem, the essay, the grandiose play, you name ‘em, I ate ‘em.
Ray Bradbury
How could you argue with this?
Should he give free reign to his desires, the bibliomaniac can ruin his life along with the lives of his loved ones. He’ll often take better care of his books than of his own health; he’ll spend more on fiction than he does on food; he’ll be more interested in his library than in his relationships, and, since few people are prepared to live in a place where every available surface is covered with piles of books, he’ll often find himself alone, perhaps in the company of a neglected and malnourished cat. When he dies, all but forgotten, his body might fester for days before a curious neighbor grows concerned about the smell.
Mikita Brottman
Biografías- Alicia Martín
