Words never mean what what we want them to mean. If we communicated with something like music, we would never be misunderstood.—Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated
I desired to see new things. I desired to experience volumes.—Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated
Once you hear something, you can never return to the time before you heard it.—Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated
I used to think that writing in books was sacrilege.
Then, freshman year of college, I was reading a copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson I had borrowed from my cousin when I came across a highlighted paragraph. “Why would you do that?” I asked her, scandalized.
“Because I might not read that book again, and this way I can remember the parts I liked,” she answered. I hadn’t thought of it like that, as a way to preserve your love of a book, rather than a sign of careless treatment of it. I changed my mind in about .02 seconds and I’ve been marking up my books ever since. (Never the library’s or any I borrow; I’m not an animal.)
It’s nice to grab a book from the shelf sometimes and page through, reading passages I’ve marked. It’s how I source a lot of the quotes for this blog. And even if I start by reading a few highlighted lines, I may get pulled in and wind up reading an entire page or two—or just decide to start over and read the whole book.
So, funnily enough, my intent in underlining and calling out passages to keep love of books and stories alive without having to read them again, often results in my reading them again.
I’ve played myself, but also not.
Happy underlining, folks.
I think it’s very pretty.
Can it be pretty if no one thinks it’s pretty?
I think it’s pretty.
If you’re the only one?
That’s pretty pretty.
And what about the boys? Don’t you want them to think you’re pretty?
I wouldn’t want a boy to think I was pretty unless he was the kind of boy who thought I was pretty.—Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated