Happy, happy. Joy, joy!

I watched The Empire Strikes Back again last night. By far the best of the six.

I am enamored with books about books. I love people writing about wonderful books they have read and sometimes I am even motivated to read the books they write about, but I am almost always disappointed. I can never seem to love a book after someone has told me how much they love it. It's some kind of book adultery, I guess. I feel like I'm cheating on someone else's lover. Or maybe I just like the idea of a book better than the book itself.

I think the later case is true. I fall in love with ideas. Ideas are so much more beautiful than any book can be.

I guess that is why I was a philosophy major.

Reading
Wishing
Plotting