Time is so precious. Reading is the ultimate luxury, in many ways, and I – again – look back with nostalgia on long summer afternoons spent reading in the backyard. Maybe that’s how I know it’s a real vacation, as opposed to some mad photographic/soaking road trip. When I have time to read, I am really away, literally or figuratively. And there’s something obviously comforting about finding an English-language bookstore when you’re surrounded by another language. And, if it’s full of cool books and little nooks where you can sit for hours, sign me up.
Paris – 2012
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