At a very young age I began collecting old books.
When I was 19 living in CA. a library closed and the books were offered to the school where I was teaching. The material did not meet the expectations of staff and so the dumspter was filled.
I was horrified. I gathered what I could and my choices were based on,
Title, Cover, Color, nothing great.
I couldn't stand years of books thrown away.
I have carried my loves with each move of our household and added to the boxes with time.
I love the uneven cut of pages and their smell. I love the texture of the fabric on the covers and the color with touches of gold.
To me they are priceless and then I wonder who they belonged to who and who read them....
If they weren't a text book I wonder who wrote them and why? I like this quote from Geroge Orwell:
Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist or understand.
They make me smile....my love affair with old books.