As someone who has both a Kindle and uses Audible, I feel somewhat guilty about also loving used and independent book stores. Yesterday I was in the Raven bookstore in Northampton, and came across an exquisite edition of Burton Watson’s translation of Mozi, Xunzi and Han Feizi. It was published in 1967, three years before I was born, and is pristine, save for discoloration from the light on the top of the pages. There is not a speck of mold, nor a scratch or marking. The dust jacket is a slightly textured card stock, and the spine intact. I wish I knew more of the art of bookbinding to say more, but I have spent most of my life in used book shops, and know enough to know that this was very well cared for.
I am looking forward to reading them not merely as a way to better understand Laozi and Zhuangzi, but to hear their voices and ask questions I had not even thought to ask.