and there are so many of them

There were five or six big boxes in the attic, each with perhaps thirty books, waiting for me to pass sentence on them. Frankly, I'm not sure how I succeeded in acquiring so many books, though I suppose that it's a rather simple process of simply saving everything that came my way. And quite a bit came my way.

It wasn't hard figuring out why books that dealt with schooling and education were saved (though many of these were probably of very limited interest - the good ones are still on my shelves), but I was more than a bit surprised to discover that numerous titles were items in which long ago I had only a passing interest, if any interest at all. On the other hand, it sort of makes sense. A person who saves books doesn't save them only because they have meaning for him or her, because of their particular content. Someone who saves books does so because the very thought of throwing them out is such a difficult thought to deal with.


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