Books, books, books...

"Books, books, books had found the secret of a garret-room
piled high with cases in my father's name;
Piled high, packed large, -- where, creeping in and out
among the giant fossils of my past, like some small nimble mouse between the ribs of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there
at this or that box, pulling through the gap, in heats of terror, haste, victorious joy, the first book first.
And how I felt it beat under my pillow, in the morning's dark.
An hour before the sun would let me read!
My books!"

~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning