Not my image — found on Pinterest

All I can think about is all of the books in all of the libraries, homes, cars, closets, cupboards, shelved, written in foreigner languages, not written at all and all of the ones burnt, broken, rotten, sodden or altogether gone and I realize I can never, ever, read all of them. And when I realize this I become inexplicably sad and spend my entire day reading to feel better again.

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