You can’t leave the library with less than two books, preferably four.
A trip to the bookstore or a new library leaves your heart pounding with excitement some people reserve only for winning the lottery.
You have at least a half dozen books going at one time and can’t even remember where you put them all.
You have a collection of bookmarkers that could earn you a place in the Guinness Book of World Records.
You’re considering founding a twelve-step recovery program for people addicted to buying free or 99 cent Kindle books on Amazon.com.
You hear rumors that Barnes & Nobles stores might be closing and your anxiety level soars.
Anyone who passes on their used books to you becomes your newest hero or heroine.
You watch small children enjoying the library and your heart melts in a great big puddle all over the carpet.
When making funeral arrangements for the hopefully far off day of your demise, you request that your favorite tomes be buried with you.
You find yourself reading to your pets.
The Library of Congress building is your literary Taj Mahal.
Someone asks you what your favorite movie is and you answer, “Ahhhhh….” However, if they ask you about your favorite books their eyes begin to glaze over when you’re still talking an hour later.
You’re happy when your hubby want to watch the game because now you can read for a few hours.
Whenever someone asks you what you want for a birthday or Christmas gift, you inevitably answer, “Books, of course!”
You’ve read four books in two weeks but your bathroom hasn’t been cleaned in two months.
You always find a corner during lunch break and read for the entire time.
Your tombstone reads: “Here lies our dearly departed who has now gone to that great library in the sky. May she read in peace.”