On Borrowed Literature.

I love library books with coffee spills; a witness to the lovely moments others have spent with them, just as I have: curled up on the sofa, mug in hand, my face bent over the pages. I love the connections books bring us from simply having read the same thing. Library books take that connection a step further by allowing one to not only read the same words as another, but to literally pass the same book from hand to hand.
I'm reading "Why read the classics?", a brilliant collection of essays by Italo Calvino. The essay entitled "Carlo Emilio Gadda, the Pasticciaccio" bears the largest stain, while the title essay boasts only a few light pencil marks.