I knew bibliophiles were strange, but I hadn't realized we were quite this strange

And yet, somehow, I can't find it in myself to deny that this sentence makes a weird kind of sense to me...

The aim of literature ... is the creation of a strange object covered with fur which breaks your heart.
Donald Barthelme

April 7, 1931: Postmodernist short story writer Donald Barthelme was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 82 years ago today.
from GoodReads quote of the day