The cricket’s gone, we only hear machines In erg and atom they exact their pay. And life is largely lived on silver screens.

The decent docent doesn’t doze; He teaches standing on his toes. His students dassn’t doze and does, And that’s what teaching is and was.

By and by God caught his eye." ()

There was a need for it. I talked to my wife . . . This community has been good to us, and we're happy to give as much as we can." ()

Books fall open, you fall in, delighted where you've never been; hear voices not once heard before, reach world on world through door on door; find unexpected keys to things locked up beyond imaginings. What might you be, perhaps become, because one book is somewhere? Some wise delver into wisdom, wit, and wherewithal has written it. True books will venture, dare you out, whisper secrets, maybe shout across the gloom to you in need, who hanker for a book to read.

Books fall open, you fall in, delighted where you've never been.

The high-ceilinged rooms, the little balconies, alcoves, nooks and angles all suggest sanctuary, escape, creature comfort. The reader, the scholar, the browser, the borrower is king.

Your life will be rich for others only as it is rich for you.

The cricket's gone, we only hear machines In erg and atom they exact their pay. And life is largely lived on silver screens.

Life is a garment we continuously alter, but which never seems to fit.