A few years ago while I was in New York on business, I happened in to an antiquarian book show at the 7th Regiment Armory on Park Avenue and 67th. It was a rainy spring afternoon, and I’d taken a long stroll down Park looking for nothing in particular. What I found was a little bit of heaven in an unexpected place.
Books for me are something of a vice – and a great hall full of them was sensory overload. I bought an early (but not first) edition of C.S. Lewis’s The Four Loves, and lingered over outrageously priced, mint-condition copies of the Dick and Jane books I learned to read from in kindergarten.