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In the end, we sat on the floor among the poetry, and I read him some.
最后，我们坐在地板上沉浸在诗歌之中，我给他读了一些。
He listened, his head tilted down, asking, “What is it you like about that one?”
他听着，低下了头，问我，“你喜欢这首诗的什么？”
That spring, as we picnicked outside, I said, “If I tell you something, will you not judge me?”
那年春天，我们去外面野餐，我说，“我告诉你一件事，你不要评判我好吗？”
David paused from listing the titles he planned to read over the summer and raised his eyebrows.
大卫正在整理这个夏天打算读的书的清单，他停了下来，扬起眉毛。
“I’ve only read one book this year,” I said. “But it’s June,” he said. “I know.”
我说，“我今年只读了一本书。”他说，“但是现在才六月。”“我知道。”
“But you like books,” he said. “You like bookstores. You like libraries.”
他说，“但是你喜欢书。你喜欢书店。你喜欢图书馆。”
“Is it a deal breaker?” “No, but still. Read a book!”
“这会破坏我们的关系吗？”“不会，但是还是要读书！”
I was painfully aware of the glaring hypocrisy in my life.
我痛苦地意识到我生活中明显的虚伪。
I defended the virtues of bookstores in the age of online retailing and bought books whenever I got the chance, but I hardly read them.
在这个网上零售的时代，我为书店的优点辩护，一有机会就去买书，但我很少去读。
They sat on every surface until my house appeared to wear books the way one wears clothes. They piled up on chairs and draped across sofa arms.
他们被放在每一个表面上，直到我的房子看起来像穿衣服一样穿着书。他们堆在椅子上，搭在沙发扶手上。
The Japanese language has a word for this: tsundoku. The act of acquiring books that go unread.
日语中对此有一个词：tsundoku。买书籍但是不读的行为。
Each of my bookshelves holds two rows of books, an inner and an outer.
我的每个书架上都有两排书，一排在里面，一排在外面。
Surrounding the bookshelf are stacks containing different categories of books: Books I Have Read.
书架的周围是不同类别的书：我读过的书。
Books I Want to Read. Books I Started but Did Not Finish Because I Did Not Like Them.
我想读的书。我开始读的，但是没有读完的书，因为我不喜欢它们。
Books I Started and Loved but Could Not Justify Reading Given Their Graphic Sexual or Violent Content.
我开始读的，很喜欢的书，但鉴于其生动的色情或暴力内容，无法证明阅读的合理性。
The next time I visited a dollar bookstore, I bought five titles for myself and two for David.
第二次去一元书店时，我给自己买了五本，给大卫买了两本。
His charge to “read a book” echoed in my head. One afternoon, I picked up one I’d bought solely for its poetic title.
他的“读一本书”的要求在我脑海中回荡。一天下午，我拿起一本仅仅因其诗意标题而买的书。
