Give me old books. Books with annotated pages and tear stains and little scraps of paper and fabric that were used as book marks. Give me notes and sketches that let me see into the mind of the old owner, let me see what made them cry, see what made them happy and what made them think. Let me see the depth of the plot lines that they expanded with their own thoughts.
Give me books with water stains and cracked spines and creased pages. Give me books so loved by the owner, given away to move on to the next one to adore them.















