Public libraries have been a mainstay of my life. They represent an individual's right to acquire knowledge; they are the sinews that bind civilized … - James A. Michener

rarely did the soaring words of this Book resound with more meaning than there in the long hut beside the Arctic Ocean as the sailors read the familiar verses they had learned as boys in distant New England.

He was reminded that men may be angels, but they are animals, too. They are driven by uncontrollable forces and only the love of other people makes it possible for them to survive. Men are lonely and are stricken in the night. They lock their jaws against themselves. They scream like animals, and even though they ridicule love and the forces of destruction, they are themselves theatres for the operation of such forces.

Where is Winesooth?” she had asked Wiktor, and he had said rather sharply: “On the map, where else?” “But where on the map? Clearly, it’s not on mine.” “It’s got to be,” he snapped, grabbing the map from her, then jabbing at it with his finger. “Right there, where it should be.” “But that says Lancut,” she protested, and when Wiktor looked again at the map he repeated: “It’s right here, where I said.