"I have spread my dreams beneath your feet;/
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams...“ W.B. Yeats.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
"My fingers positively itched to drift at length along their spines, to arrive at one whose lure I could not pass, to pluck it down, to inch it open, then to close my eyes and inhale the soul-sparking scent of old and literate dust."