Will you be quiet?" he asked, smiling down at her. She nodded. He pretended to think about it. "I don't believe you<br>" She planted her hands on her hips, which had to be a ludicrous postition, naked as she was from the waist up. All right," he acceded, "but the only words I'll allow from your mouth are, 'Oh, Gareth,' and 'Yes, Gareth. ' He lifted his finger. What about 'More, Gareth?'" He almost kept a straith face. "That will be acceptable
Italo Calvino
What about books? Well, precisely because you have denied it in every other field, you believe you may still grant yourself legitimately this youthful pleasure of expectation in a carefully circumscribed area like the field of books, where you can be lucky or unlucky, but the risk of disappointment isn't serious.
