The quote I refer to in my first post is a rather long one, but I think it will resonate with anyone who loves to get lost in a good book.
Yet in her sorrow there was joy, the remembered joy of someone who had been a reader all her life, whose world had been immeasurably enlarged by the words of others. Perhaps it is true that at base we readers are dissatisfied people, yearning to be elsewhere, to live vicariously through words in a way we cannot live directly through life. Perhaps we are the world’s greatest nomads, if only in our minds. I travel today the way I once dreamed of traveling as a child. And the irony is that I don’t care very much for it. I am the sort of person who prefers to stay at home surrounded by family, friends, familiarity, books. This is what I like about traveling; the time on airplanes spent reading, solitary, happy. It turns out that when my younger self thought of taking wing, she wanted only to let her spirit soar. Books are the plane, and the train, and the road. They are the destination, and they journey. They are home.
– Anna Quindlen, “How reading changed my life” (from a 1998 contribution to the Library of Contemporary Thought series and read in A Passion for Books edited by Harold Rabinowitz & Rob Kaplan, 1999)
I am definitely the ultimate nomad, though currently only in my mind, and I haven’t yet reached the point that I don’t thoroughly enjoy travel. I hope I never get there! I will say this, I do love the part of the journey where I can keep my nose stuck in a book; plane, train, or automobile.
More coming up soon on my recent trip to Colorado and what I was reading while I was there!