“The only time when you and I really entered into literature, entered the kingdom of letters, was when each of us sat as a child absorbed in the magic pages of a book: in some snug corner of a quiet room or sheltered in some lost recess of the seashore with the muffled sound of the wind and sea to concentrate our thought — that is reading, that is literature.”
―
Stephen Leacock,
The Pursuit of Knowledge: A Discussion of Freedom and Compulsion in Education