"I could never be lonely without a husband, but without my trinkets, my golden gods, I could find abysmal gloom."

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It must have meant something, though, that at this turn of my life I grabbed up a book. Because it was in books that I would find, for the next few years, my lovers. They were men, not boys. They were self-possessed and sardonic, with a ferocious streak in them, reserves of gloom.

— Alice Munro