Only More Questions/ I Still Dream of Books

I miss wondering about things for years, and never being sure if I'd ever have the answer to what I was wondering about. Those were the days of 'pre-internet' -- where to find out about something you had to go to a library, and dig through microfilm, or old back issues of technical journals, periodicals, or newspapers. There was an element of chance, availability, of luck --you'd have to scour the shelves, or probably you'd heard of a book that enlarged in great detail what you wanted to know, but it was out of print, but someone saw it on a bookshelf in an apartment in San Francisco in 1966. Or if they had the book, you could only borrow it for an hour.

Before the WWW, I had dreams about books! Mysterious books. Elusive ones. A book seen out of the corner of the eye, a book that was supposed to be hidden. Books that were out of print, or lost, or ones that I saw once and never again. Now I can find out about anything, right away. But despite all the information, there are only more questions. I still dream of books.