The books I judge are the old, tattered, barley-holding-themselves-together books. You're getting a picture, aren't you? I believe they hold more secrets, information; more emotion and love.
By looking at their covers, I see mystery... And I have every desire to open its pages and tear through the knowledge its bound to hold.
I believe these books have character. More character than those tightly, newly bound books you see every day. These books have seen the dawn of ages; they know wisdom in a way those new books do not.
Through figurative speech, does this not show the kind of people I desire to know? Does it not show that I want to get to know the ones with the roughest, most faded, torn up covers- and to read everyone of those pages? I'm bound to love it... If not what's inside, then the feeling it gives me when I read them, for sure. Because I love the mystery they hold...
Always judge the book by its cover, but judge it righteously.
.... The wonders I see in my head don't translate well to my small, beating heart. I don't understand. AND I LOVE NOT UNDERSTANDING.
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