"A room without books is like a body without a soul." - Marcus Tullius Cicero

The love one can have for the written word runs deeper than any valley.

Without the flow of words that bring me joy and sorrow, what is there to live for?

Without the feelings of love, joy, sorrow, and fear that can be felt through books

What does one have to look forward to?

From the imagery of a young couple falling in love,

To the death of a dying man,

A writer's soul feasts on the printed word.

Without the printed word, what makes a writer?

What makes me?

Without books, I am nothing more than a shadow.

Without books I cannot feast,

I cannot love,

I cannot fear.

Without books, I am not everlasting.