He dismounted from his horse, looking at me strangely the whole while. “You experience something similar every day,” he said softly. “It is as familiar to you as bread and butter.”
“Yes,” I said. “It is like every night when I fall asleep.”
“No. It is like every morning when you wake up.” —Martine Leavitt, Keturah and Lord Death (via new-for-you)
I believe in the magic of books. I believe that during certain periods in our lives we are drawn to particular books— whether it be strolling down the aisle of a secondhand bookshop with no particular idea of what we want and suddenly finding the most perfect, most wonderfully suitable book staring us in the face, or a chance meeting with a stranger who happens to recommend a book for which we would never ordinarily reach but that has the power to alter the course of our otherwise meaningless life. Books have a way of finding their way into our lives, usually right when we need them most.