"Yes, I know them all, and love each for its own sake. Take
this little volume," and he picked up a little volume of Shakespeare.
"Why, we are the best of friends: we have travelled miles together--all
over the world, as a matter of fact. It knows me in all my moods, and
responds to each, no matter how irritable I am. Yes, it is pretty
badly marked up now, for a fact, isn't it? Black; I never thought of
that before that it doesn't make a book look any better to the eye.
But it means more to me because of all that pencilling.
"Now, some folks dislike my use of my books in this way. They love
their books so much that they think it nothing short of sacrilege to
mark up a book. But to me, that's like having a child so prettily
dressed that you can't romp and play with it. What is the good of a
book, I say, if it is too pretty for use? I like to have my books
speak to me, and then I like to talk back to them.
"Take my Bible, here," he continued, as he took up an old and much-worn
copy of the book. "I have a number of copies of the Great Book: one
copy I preach from; another I minister from; but this is my own
personal copy, and into it I talk and talk.
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