Pen-bereavement Is A Serious Matter.

If The Soul Cannot Find Its Jacket. It Is Condemned To An Eternity Of Wandering--naked And Alone

It Is A Truism Of Epistolary Psychology That, For Example, A Christmas Thank-you Note Written On December 26 Can Say Any Old Thing, But If You Wait Until February, You Are Convinced That Nothing Less Than Middlemarch Will Do.

When The Irish Novelist John Mcgahern Was A Child, His Sisters Unlaced And Removed One Of His Shoes While He Was Reading. He Did Not Stir. They Placed A Straw Hat On His Head. No Response. Only When They Took Away The Wooden Chair On Which He Was Sitting Did He, As He Puts It, 'wake Out Of The Book'.

Some Day, As Soon As A Book Is Printed It Will Be Simultaneously Put Into Digital Form. That Will Be A Wonderful Research Tool, But It Will Never Substitute For Holding The Book. I Feel Certain That At Least Within My Lifetime, Everyone Will Still Be Going To The Bookstore And Buying Printed Books. Thank God I'll Die Before I Have To Worry About Whether The Printed Book Itself Will Disappear. That's Something I Don't Want To Live To See.

My Daughter Is Seven, And Some Of The Other Second-grade Parents Complain That Their Children Don't Read For Pleasure. When I Visit Their Homes, The Children's Rooms Are Crammed With Expensive Books, But The Parent's Rooms Are Empty. Those Children Do Not See Their Parents Reading, As I Did Every Day Of My Childhood. By Contrast, When I Walk Into An Apartment With Books On The Shelves, Books On The Bedside Tables, Books On The Floor, And Books On The Toilet Tank, Then I Know What I Would See If I Opened The Door That Says 'private--grownups Keep Out': A Child Sprawled On The Bed, Reading.