I'm reading a terrific book: Confessions of a Common Reader by Anne Fadiman. Warning: Do not read this book if you do not love to read. Furthermore, do not read this book if you only partially like reading. Only read this beautiful book if you are passionate about reading. Because Fadiman is, and she needs only the support of full fledged readers to enter her domain. In this book you will learn proper bookmark techniques. You will also learn about how sexy reading about food can be, as well as the definition of such delicious words as: grimoire, adytum, and my personal favorite, very delectable word - opopanax, ( a reddish-looking plant formerly used as an emmenagogue and antispasmodic). Wouldn't you like to play with a balloon shaped just like an opopanax? I would. She also teaches you a lot about how your future spouse should be - at least to those who wish to live a romantically booky life. You are only truly married when you can share each other's books. You also need someone who will buy you 19 pounds of dusty books for your birthday, and who will inscribe in his very own novel, "To my beloved wife...This is your book, too, as my life, too is also yours." You will read about how romantic it is to be surrounded by Gore-tex, cuddling with your husband (romantically christened George), as John Wesley Powell's diary lay before you by lantern light, watching the Granite Rapids roll by. There are many things each of you need to learn about books. They are - not just things to be read and put down. They are our history, our present, our very future, and the mark we leave as human beings. They in fact - determine our existence, and validate our consciousness. So before you sprawl a book face-down, or dog-ear, or heaven forbid tear out its pages; take a minute. Breathe. Respect.