For Tuesday, December 20, 2016:
The object we call a book is not the real book, but its potential, like a musical score or seed. It exists fully only in the act of being read; and its real home is inside the head of the reader, where the symphony resounds, the seed germinates. A book is a heart that only beats inside the chest of another …
Rebecca Solnit – ‘Flight,’ THE FARAWAY NEARBY
magiclampedits 