I have posted before about rereading books that you love, but what about when all you want is to keep rereading your favorites?
This seems less and less unusual to me, particularly as time goes by.
Getting to the point of: “I have read thousands of books. And these 50 spoke to my soul the most.”
Honestly, I am nearly like this about music already.
My old favorites take up enough of my time that I find myself less and less interested in new music.
It’s time with what you might like vs. time with what you know you will like.
Understand: This is about the simple pleasure of reading.
For much of my life I have essentially read for adventure or intellectual need. I began knowing no history, literary or otherwise; now I know a fair amount. Surprises of a literary or intellectual nature have become less common. In fact, I slowly came to realize, I would now rather reread than read. In Tucson, where I mostly live and work, I have assembled a small library of books I reread—and keep rereading.