December 2010
29 posts
“The books are to remind us what asses and fools we are. They’re Caesar’s praetorian guard, whispering as the parade roars down the avenue, ‘Remember, Caesar, thou art mortal.’ Most of us can’t rush around, talk to everyone, know all the cities of the world, we haven’t time, money or that many friends. The things you’re looking for, Montag, are in the world, but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine per cent of them is in a book. Don’t ask for guarantees. And don’t look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least die knowing you were headed for shore.”
—Fahrenheit 451 — Ray Bradbury 451 (via reasonable-doubt)
So I've chosen a Christmas present for this boy of mine.
One of my books. One of my books. One of my favorite books.
To explain what this means: I haven’t ever willingly let go of any of my books in the past ten years, except for a single trilogy. And only because I was selling the paperbacks to a friend to buy the re-released hardcover copies.
