Don’t forget to visit this magical place if you are ever in Exeter. And if you live too far from there, then listen: there is a place that looks like a haunted house. The old books there whisper their stories to each other. Whenever I enter the house and ascend the creaking stairs, I roam around a bit and let the book choose me. It is a simple rule of courtesy and respect. There always will be a gentle ghost willing to share its past with you.
I work in a charity bookshop and we take donations. There's this one old man who regularly comes in and donates two or three plastic bags full of books... Which invariably absolutely reek of human piss. They all go straight into the garbage dumpster outside because there's no way we could sell them and most of the volunteers refuse to even touch them. It's always so awkward when I see him come in because I guess he's trying to be charitable? But wtf dude.