At a Boston signing, someone from the audience asked why I was so obsessed with furniture in my books. The question rattled around in my head. I had no idea that I was obsessed with furniture.
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I also have intense relationships with furniture... probably because we practically had none when I was growing up.
I love to decorate a room - from the furniture to the objects to the books.
Furniture is meant to be used and enjoyed.
Books are not made for furniture, but there is nothing else that so beautifully furnishes a house.
I'm obsessed with books.
I'm drawn to furniture design as complete architecture on a minor scale.
I used to love a well-arranged room: the furniture, the fabric, the lighting.
For my first apartment, when I was first married, I went to the lumberyard and bought stuff and made couches. My then-wife made cushions. I was really very interested in furniture. I was in school for architecture, but I had to live, and making furniture was different from designing buildings, which I couldn't do for myself.
Books were the window from which I looked out of a rather meager and decidedly narrow room onto a rich and wonderful universe. I loved the look and feel of books, even the smell... Libraries were treasure houses. I always entered them with a slight thrill of disbelief that all their endless riches were mine for the borrowing.
I was always fascinated, even as a child, by antiques and ancient times. I always felt I should have been born in the 17th or 18th century. They really had a big stone castle with authentic furniture.
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