I confess that there is in my book hunts and book passions something pretty close to hoarding the hair of martyrs and the sweat of saints. My books are a private altar. They are a source of strength and a place of worship. I see no reason to refuse to bend the knee.
Close the shutters and turn up the lamp. The room is full of voices.
—Jeanette Winterson, "Art Objects: Essays on Ecstasy and Effrontery"