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Describe your ideal reading experience (when, where, what, how).

A butler at some grand house was asked by the novelist Henry Green for his definition of happiness, and the butler said something to the effect of, Sitting up in bed of a Sunday morning, listening to distant church bells and eating hot buttered toast with fingers that smell of sex. Add a book, and there you have it — though there’s the worry of that hot butter getting on the pages. Still, a risk worth taking.

— John Banville, em entrevista. 

 "That night, seconds after going to sleep, I seemed to fall through myself, a shallow heart-stopping plunge. Jarred awake, I stared into the dark, realizing I’d experienced the more or less normal muscular contraction known as the myoclonic jerk. Is this what it’s like, abrupt, peremptory? Shouldn’t death, I thought, be a swan dive, graceful, white-winged and smooth, leaving the surface undisturbed?"

— Don Delillo, White Noise