当然,生活总会有新鲜事发生,你也会有新的爱书。一切总有可能,不是吗?这正是冒险的魅力。得到的也大抵物有所值吧。你在字里行间播撒时间和心思,自然便可收获新的感悟、理解与遐思。
怎会有人知道你喜欢它呢?某个陌生人、作者,抑或书中的某个角色。他们似乎能看透你的心思。这本书,它陈列在某隅书店的书架上、它经人辗转,真的就像是在等你捧起翻阅,等着向你低语:“我会伴你左右。”
你渴望更多故事,你继续阅读,甚至搜集这位作者以往所有作品。你希望故事永远延续。书页越翻越薄,你也越读越慢,心里想着要细细含英咀华。此刻,它确定无疑就是你永恒的至爱了。你总想一读再读,每次捧起它都感觉新奇如初,而你也明白:因为内心深处的每一缕思绪都与它这般亲密,你已变得更加美好。
情动至深那刻,你便知道自己再也将它割舍不下了。
Starting a new book is a risk, just like falling in love. You have to commit to it. You open the pages knowing a little bit about it maybe, from the back or from a blurb on the front. But who knows, right? Those bits and pieces aren’t always right.
Sometimes people advertise themselves as one thing and then when you get deep into it you realize that they’re something completely different. Either there was some good marketing attached to a terrible book, or the story was only explained in a superficial way and once you reach the middle of the book, you realize there’s so much more to this book than anyone could have ever told you.
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