We stopped to browse in the cases, and now that William - with his new glasses on his nose - could linger and read the books, at every title he discovered he let out exclamations of happiness, either because he knew the work, or because he had been seeking it for a long time, or finally because he had never heard it mentioned and was highly excited and titillated. In short, for him every book was like a fabulous animal that he was meeting in a strange land.
Umberto EcoAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Philosopher
- Nationality: italian
- Born: January 5, 1932
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Our talk had been serious and sober, But our thoughts they were palsied and sere -For we knew not the month was October, And we marked not the night of the year -(Ah, night of all nights in the year!)We noted not the dim lake of Auber -(Though once we had journeyed down here) -Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber, Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
Edgar Allan Poe