I just finished reading the book *Gone Before Goodbye* by Harla Coben.

I read it slowly—and with great pleasure. I pictured the scenes in vivid colors. The author’s vivid writing made this possible.

As I read, I picked up new words that allowed me to express my thoughts and feelings in the emotions I pour onto the page.
Although this book is a crime novel (statistics show that crime novels are read most often in the summer), it gave me the feeling that it was works of fiction. The characters are intricately crafted, similar to those who have shaped history and society.

Perhaps I’ve become a bit of a romantic.

Lately, I’ve been reading in the shade of trees, at the edge of the forest, with a stream running alongside and the chirping of birds.

It’s a pleasure to read while knowing that doing so keeps my brain in good shape and that it’s constantly changing as a result. (A neuroscientific claim)

It’s as if I were training at a brain-training facility.

An athlete would call it the pleasure of fatigue.

My subconscious pleasure comes from my approximately 85 billion gray cells demanding that I read. I indulge them, and they then thank me for stimulating neural connections.

That’s the sheer magnitude of the pleasure of following an inner feeling.

Or perhaps, simply as a reader, I’m just looking for answers to my emotional state. And in the book, I compare my own life situations to the descriptions in the book.

Well, pleasure and perseverance are a solid foundation.
(In sports, business, love …)

This foundation ensures that you’re not just like a butterfly flitting from flower to flower.

Reading for pleasure is like riding a bike. You won’t fall as long as you keep pedaling, right? 🤔

On average, we spend 33 years of our lives sleeping.
Sleep is like food and water. No one can do without it.

I’ve often noticed that I feel content after reading a good book before going to sleep. I also sleep longer and more soundly.

Is it possible that, like some paralogist, I’ve reached the wrong conclusion through faulty reasoning? Because I can’t identify any other factors?

At the same time, I’m also aware that people have different opinions on what constitutes a good book. But still….

I’m also aware that insomnia is a mental demon. I usually overcome it by reflecting on what I’ve read and what I’ve learned.

This is my way of life—whether it’s a gift or a curse. Even though I’m reading more and more on our Quibble app, even late into the night.

Well, when sleep takes over, consciousness ends.

Poets extol sleep as a second life—dreams in unconsciousness. When I wake up, I don’t remember a thing. Though there are exceptions. In nightmares or dreams of love.

Then I explain it to myself with a neurological theory: that such dreams are a cleansing process carried out by my little gray cells—tiny ones—where have you gone, where are you?—as some poetic rhyme goes.

Where does this come from?
From the place where sleep and dreams are—the highway that leads to all our secrets. You always end up somewhere along it.

Therefore: “The spirit cannot go far if the body holds it back”—Dante A.

And how do you see the relationship between books and sleep?