Classics are not classics because hoary with age — they are the steel balls which have worn down mountains but remained unchanged in the mill of time. – Martin H. Fischer (1879–1962)
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
