(no subject)

[roseyroo]

"All my life, I had written in the hope of finding my lover, my double, my friend through the printed word. Books go out into the world, travel mysteriously from hand to hand, and somehow find their way to the people who need them at the times they need them. Josh had read my poems two years before because his parents and I had a friend in common and the books had been passed along. Cosmic forces guide such passings-along. The fingertips of the book-lenders are as charged as the fingertips ofpeople at a seance... When you find a book in a rented beach house, or the library of an old ocean liner, it is hardly by chance. The book is waiting there, waiting summer after salty summer, perhaps, to change your life. And the author (who may be dead by now) is still hovering somewhere in the ether to watch."

Erica Jong - How to Save Your Own Life