"Second-hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack."Our Bibliophagist friend is not sure she agrees with what Woolf has to say.
I suppose I can sort of see it, but I might say, "I feel sorry for my new books when I release a batch of used ones upon them. They slouch in, dogeared explorers and veterans of many campaigns. Scruffy, down at the heals, but experienced, world-traveled and sage. The new books eye them uneasily, young creatures -- new novels and academics still wet behind the ears, full of ideals and pretense, yet untested by the ages. I think perhaps they resent my introducing in these aged rivals, already victorious over dozens of readers -- their ideas tested and found worthy of retention. The used books sit down, confident of their places, having sat on countless shelves before. And the new books shuffle closer together and look around, wondering if they will be displaced and sent to the discard pile."