There was also something about the smell of bookshops that was strangely comforting to her. She wondered if it was the scent of ink and paper, or the perfume of binding, string, and glue. Maybe it was the scent of knowledge. Information. Thoughts and ideas. Poetry and love. All of it bound into one perfect, calm place.
CUSTOMER: If I were to, say... meet the love of my life in this bookshop, what section do you think they would be standing in?
These days, we've got booksellers in cities, in deserts, and in the middle of a rain forest; we've got travelling bookshops, and bookshops underground. We've got bookshops in barns, in caravans and in converted Victorian railway stations. We've even got booksellers selling books in the middle of a war. Are bookshops still relevant? They certainly are. All bookshops are full of stories, and stories want to be heard.
Archie says books are our best lovers and our most provoking friends.
Perhaps that is the best way to say it: printed books are magical, and real bookshops keep that magic alive.
After all, a town without a bookshop was a town without a heart.
…secondhand bookstores have pilgrims. The words out of print are a call to arms for those who seek a Holy Grail made of paper and ink.
Choosing to buy a particular book over others only or mainly because it is the cheapest is excusable only if you are learning to read.
When you buy a book at a reasonable price, you buy a new perspective on life, and such a new perspective is priceless because it can open many doors previously closed to you!
You are more likely to find three TVs inside a randomly selected house than you are to find a single book that is or was not read to pass an exam, to please God, or to be a better cook.