While the pages lots grew ever thicker

Over and over again I felt helplessness, anguish as I watched the remaining pages growing thinner and thinner, while the pages lost grew ever thicker. And yet, I kept reading .... Books are the maps of men. Every act of reading involves the paradoxical act of touching a map with the tip of the index finger and believing that we are travling through France, moving through a chapter of a book as if we were climging down the side of a mountain or ascending the cirque of a glacier by following it contour lines. I walked in maps ...

Belen Gopegui, The Scale of Maps