A large, still book is a piece of quietness, succulent and nourishing in a noisy world, which I approach and imbibe with “a sort of greedy enjoyment,” as Marcel Proust said of those rooms of his old home whose air was “saturated with the bouquet of silence.” – Holbrook Jackson
A good book is always on tap; it may be decanted and drunk a hundred times, and it is still there for further imbibement. – Holbrook Jackson
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