The Life in Our Books.

Here’s a Great way of thinking about used / previously read / loved books 👍

3 thoughts on “The Life in Our Books.

  1. When I was a little girl of about seven or eight years, my mother and I opened an old box of books that had belonged to my dad’s great aunt. To this day I remember the feel of the books and that musty smell. Most of all, I remember the awe of holding books that were so much older than I was. I don’t know what Mom did with them, but I wish I had them today.

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