Patti Smith The Ocean Club. NYC (1976)
Twain reads. Is cute.
How cute does Mark Twain reading in bed looks?
Harrison Ford reads.
Ginger Rogers reads.
E. B. White reads, writes, and thinks that just maybe dogs should give him editorial advice after they’ve authored several enduring classics of children’s literature.
The apparently unstoppable Dame Maggie reads.
I’m actually going to steal a dear friend’s story here. Mr. D., my friend, used to work at a bookshop in London. Lovely as this gentleman is - and he is the nicest, sweetest man you could ever hope to meet - he simply never got around to reading the Harry Potter books. Not out of any snobbish anti- feels; they just weren’t his bag and he never got them on his brodingnagian reading list. Consequently, he was unfamiliar with the films as well. So one day, Maggie Smith walks into the shop and asks him were the Potter books are. He shows her and asks if she’s enjoying them. “Enjoying them?” she says. “My dear man, I’m living them.”