There was once a man who cherished a book. Someone had given him this book as a gift or a prize, I don’t recall, and it is not nearly as important as how much that book meant to him. He cherished the book and was careful to turn the pages gently so as to keep the book perfectly new. He always put the book high up in a special place when he finished reading it four or five nights each week. He never let anyone else hold it or read it as they might ruin it.
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