I like my computer. It allows me to do things like write this blog. It allows me to communicate with people and it entertains me. But computers or hand-held “e-books” will never replace books for me.

A computer is cold, removed, impersonal.  The words fleeting, the pictures evanescent.

But books, books are different. There is something sensuous, even seductive about a book, especially old books.

The way they smell, dry, dusty, whispering secrets and the promise of adventure, intrigue, romance.

The way they feel in your hand, hard, heavy, with the mystery of days gone by, the unexplored ‘what if’.

The way the pages slip under your fingers, velvety, smooth, full of enthralling potential, murmuring softly of long ago, the elusive far away.

A book isn’t just for the dissemination of ideas and facts.

A book is an enchantress to enrapture the whole, body, mind, soul.

A computer could never emulate the delight, the sheer exquisite allure of Books.

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