轻轻抚摸这柔软的纸张,油墨的清香扑鼻而来,没有色彩,没有绮丽,可它的古朴,它的厚重却通过那轻轻一嗅浸染了我的全身,从此不能自拔……记得儿时的夜晚,与母亲漫步于书市。看着眼前的色彩斑斓,心中有了一种买书的冲动,却不知从何读起。忽然,望见那书摊的一隅,一本厚书斜放在那里,深棕色的书皮,在昏黄的灯 Touching the soft paper gently, the fragrance of the ink came noisily, no color, no gorgeous, but it’s quaint, but it’s thick but through the gently smelted my body, and can not extricate themselves ... ... remember childhood At night, stroll with her mother in the book fair. Looking at the colorful colors in front of me, I have an impulse to buy books, but I do not know where to read. Suddenly, I saw a glimpse of the book stall, a thick book leaning over it, a dark brown book cover, in a dim light