Still my favourite
graphic by: Gioia
<<Every book, every volume you see here, has a soul. The soul of the person who wrote it and of those who read it and lived and dreamed with it. Every time a book changes hands, every time someone runs his eyes down its pages, its spirit grows and strengthens.>>
The wind howls it creeps under the porticos, raises her skirts, ruffles the hair, creates vortices in the meadows, taking with it yellow, red and brown leaves; it drives the clouds and thickens the seas. Then suddenly it stops and it comes the rain, slow, bored, it fills the spaces with its smell of Autumn by sliding the drops on the windows, getting the objects dirty and washing away the sins.
In this atmosphere, you have to find the nearest library, one of those with the smell of old books that you can already feel…
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