A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, by Betty Smith
This is one of my favorite books.
It’s not much to look at
It tattered, worn,
Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book. And then there are other books…which you can’t tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like a betrayal.
-The Fault in Our Stars, John Green
The binding is hanging by a thread,
like a criminal,
“Old books exert a strange fascination for me — their smell, their feel, their history; wondering who might have owned them, how they lived, what they felt.”
The edges are frayed
from the excruciating effort
of holding on.
“I love old books. They tell you stories about their use. You can see where the fingerprints touched the pages as they held the book open. You can see how long they lingered on each page by the finger stains.”
“A good novel tells us the truth about its hero; but a bad novel tells us the truth about its author.”
-G. K. Chesterton
…showing us ourselves.