I seem to recall someone amending the Duchess of Windsor's quote so it said, "You can never be too thin or own too many books." As far as the too-thin part goes, I don't have any worries. But I think I'm starting to wonder about the too many books. Is it possible?
This is the pile I lugged home with me on Saturday. Good thing I didn't have to walk far to any bus stops, or my arms might have been dragging on the sidewalk.
Luckily, I'd come prepared and brought a sturdy cloth bag. Still, I'm beginning to wonder about this maybe-compulsion.
Five of the books were a bonus that came along with SFU's Annual Symposium on the Novel. Another, Dead Man in the Orchestra Pit, came from a book launch in the evening. But in between these two events, what did I do? Spent time trolling bookstores and second-hand shops. What did I buy? You already know: more books.
I'm not sure there'll ever be time to read half of the books that surround me. Still, I'd really hate it if a day came along when there wasn't something at hand that I really, really wanted to read.
Considering this latest pile, that shouldn't happen any time soon.