During the day, the library is a realm of order.

Darkness promotes speech.

In the dark, with the windows lit and the rows of books glittering, the library is a closed space, a universe of self-serving rules that pretend to replace or translate those of the shapeless universe beyond.

I know my time will come soon enough, but I will not dwell on it. What is the purpose? We might as well dwell on the work of our teeth or on the mechanics of our walk. It is there, it will always be there, and I don't intend to spend my glorious hours looking over my shoulder to see death's icy face.

One book calls to another unexpectedly, creating alliances across different cultures and centuries.

During the day, the library is a realm of order.

In any of my pages in any of my books may life a perfect account of my secret experience of the world.