All Cities Are Mad: But The Madness

Living In A Bookshop Is Like Living In A Warehouse Of Explosives. Those Shelves Are Ranked With The Most Furious Combustibles In The World--the Brains Of Men.

Man Makes A Great Fuss About This Planet Which Is Only A Ballbearing In The Hub Of The Universe.

Read, Every Day, Something No One Else Is Reading. Think, Every Day, Something No One Else Is Thinking. Do, Every Day, Something No One Else Would Be Silly Enough To Do. It Is Bad For The Mind To Continually Be Part Of Unanimity.

Truth And Beauty (perhaps Keats Was Wrong In Identifying Them: Perhaps They Have The Relation Of Wit And Humour, Or Rain And Rainbow) Are Of Interest Only To Hungry People. There Are Several Kinds Of Hunger. If Socrates, Spinoza, And Santayana Had Had Free Access To A Midnight Icebox We Would Never Have Heard Of Them. Shall I Be Ashamed Of My Little Mewing Truths?... I Ask To Be Forgiven: They Are Such Tiny Ones.

There Is No Mistaking A Real Book When One Meets It. It Is Like Falling In Love.