Mr Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore (Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, #1)

by Robin Sloan

So I guess you could say Neel owes me a few favors, except that so many favors have passed between us now that they are no longer distinguishable as individual acts, just a bright haze of loyalty. Our friendship is a nebula.

Have they all bought Kindles? I have one, and I use it most nights. I always imagine the books staring and whispering, Traitor!—but come on, I have a lot of free first chapters to get through.

real

My limbic system has grown accustomed to a certain (very low) level of human (female) contact.

People want things to be real. If you give them an excuse, they’ll believe you.”

If fidgets were Wikipedia edits, I would have completely revamped the entry on guilt by now, and translated it into five new languages.

I have a dozen explanations (with branching subplots) if Penumbra spots the difference.

the one pro of anxiety ‼️

Jeez. Immortality in a book-lined catacomb down beneath the surface of the earth, or death up here, with all this? I’ll take death and a kebab.

There is no immortality that is not built on friendship and work done with care.

It’s not easy to imagine the year 3012, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.

After that, the book will fade, the way all books fade in your mind. But I hope you will remember this: A man walking fast down a dark lonely street. Quick steps and hard breathing, all wonder and need. A bell above a door and the tinkle it makes. A clerk and a ladder and warm golden light, and then: the right book exactly, at exactly the right time.