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Quote by Khaled Ibrahim

“It wasn’t just a coincidence — it was all meant to happen. I walked hundreds of miles, wandered through streets and alleyways, drifting along strange paths with no sense of direction. I searched for you in every passing face, certain you were among them. Until I saw that look drawn across your forehead… and only then, did I realize — you were never the one I was searching for.”

Quote by Khaled Ibrahim

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Khaled Ibrahim

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“I, too, feel the need to reread the books I have already read," a third reader says, "but at every rereading I seem to be reading a new book, for the first time. Is it I who keep changing and seeing new things of which I was not previously aware? Or is reading a construction that assumes form, assembling a great number of variables, and therefore something that cannot be repeated twice according to the same pattern? Every time I seek to relive the emotion of a previous reading, I experience different and unexpected impressions, and do not find again those of before. At certain moments it seems to me that between one reading and the next there is a progression: in the sense, for example, of penetrating further into the spirit of the text, or of increasing my critical detachment. At other moments, on the contrary, I seem to retain the memory of the readings of a single book one next to another, enthusiastic or cold or hostile, scattered in time without a perspective, without a thread that ties them together. The conclusion I have reached is that reading is an operation without object; or that its true object is itself. The book is an accessory aid, or even a pretext.”

BookReadingBook ReadingRereadingObject Of Reading
Book:If on a winter's night a traveler
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