Davies, Robertson. A Voice From the Attic
New York: 1990
What is time? Let the philosophers and the physicists say what they will, time for most of us is the fleeting instant we call Now. Any enjoyment or profit we get from life, we get Now; to kill Now is to abridge our own lives.
Yet how many people there are who read as though some prize awaited them when they turned the last page! They do not wish to read a book; they want to have read it—no matter how. The prize they seek is to have done with the book in hand.
And so, as they read, they are always straining forward toward the goal of completion. Is it astonishing that they experience so little on the way, and that while they may be “great readers” quantitatively they are wretchedly poor readers qualitatively, and that they reveal by the poverty of their minds how ill-read they truly are?