His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the
universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon
all the living and the dead.
-James Joyce
I don't need fine wines, aged single malt whiskeys, rare cheeses, or any other obscure delectable delights for my tongue when I have the finely crafted words of brilliant writers.
Take a sentence like the one above and roll it around in your mouth. Speak it slowly, savoring the rhythm and the flow.
This is what is means to devour books. You can read to fill up your time just as easily as you can eat to fill your stomach. Or you can read to taste the flavors of human thought, human expression, and human experience.
A good sentence will satisfy me for days.
If you run across a particularly tasty one, drop me a line.