Every library both embraces and rejects. Every library is by definition the result of choice, and necessarily limited in its scope. And every choice excludes another, the choice not made. The act of reading parallels endlessly the act of censorship.
Max looks up the dark passage. “Tell Max what is there.” “I can’t. Or, I could, but you wouldn’t understand yet. You have to want to know. You have to make the choice yourself.”
Blake Crouch, Summer Frost
“The overwhelming sweetness of a voice
Filled me with Godhead. ‘Still remains the choice!
Thou knowest me for Beauty! Canst thou bear
The fuller vision, the abundant air?’
I only wept. The elements rejoice;
No tear before had ever fallen there.” [via]