The first reading is like the first love, both are born with an aura of exaggeration that accompanies the joy of discovery, and we throw them all our longings for life. Sometimes we forget that beauty is what we decide to see, not what exists in itself. A beautiful person does not derive his beauty from his presence, but from another look at that person, as well as the book; they derive their beauty from his reader, and if they stay closed on the library shelf, there is no beauty.