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Most people either love or hate old libraries. To some, a room like this–dim, high-ceilinged, dusty, smelling of old paper and crumbling leather–would be oppressive, a place to flee from in search of sun and air. To others, like me, it was a wonderful cave filled with unimaginable treasures and unexpected treats. I always found myself inhaling deeply when I entered the stacks, as if trying to absorb part of them into my bloodstream.
