A new (old) book arrived in my mailbox yesterday! Another of my dad's literary finds, it's a copy of The Scarlet Letter from 1892. I know I've expressed my love for Jane Eyre many times, but The Scarlet Letter is actually my book of books. If I could only read one book for the rest of my life, this is the one I would choose. And this particular copy is so special, with it's red cover and hand written inscription.
The novel is full of imagery and beautiful language, here's a line I found when I opened the book to a random page... "Her imagination was somehow affected, and, had she been of a softer moral and intellectual fibre, would have been still more so, by the strange and solitary anguish of her life."