I Have Never Been Able To Resist

It Has Long Been My Belief That Everyone's Library Contains An Odd Shelf. On This Shelf Rests A Small, Mysterious Completely Unrelated To The Rest Of The Library, Yet Which, Upon Closer Inspection, Reveals A Good Deal About Its Owner.

When The Irish Novelist John Mcgahern Was A Child, His Sisters Unlaced And Removed One Of His Shoes While He Was Reading. He Did Not Stir. They Placed A Straw Hat On His Head. No Response. Only When They Took Away The Wooden Chair On Which He Was Sitting Did He, As He Puts It, 'wake Out Of The Book'.

I Am Very Grateful To The Electronic World For Making My Life Easier, But There Is Something About Holding A Book - The Smell And The World Of Association. Even When E-books Are Perfected, As They Surely Will Be, It Will Be Like Being In Bed With A Very Well-made Robot Rather Than A Warm, Soft, Human Being Whom You Love.

Anyone Who Doubts That Caffeine Is A Drug Should Read Some Of The Prose Composed Under Its Influence.

Something Amazing Happens When The Rest Of The World Is Sleeping. I Am Glued To My Chair. I Forget That I Ever Wanted To Do Anything But Write. The Crowded City, The Crowded Apartment, And The Crowded Calendar Suddenly Seem Spacious. Three Or Four Hours Pass In A Moment; I Have No Idea What Time It Is, Because I Never Check The Clock. If I Chose To Listen, I Could Hear The Swish Of Taxis Bound For Downtown Bars Or The Soft Saxophone Riffs That Drift From A Neighbor's Window, But Nothing Gets Through. I Am Suspended In A Sensory Deprivation Tank, And The Very Lack Of Sensation Is Delicious.