There are books on the shelf that we browse and sometimes read, but we may not understand what we read, we may be busy with something, with a loss, or with a gain. Or we don't understand, because what he says is strange. Or it doesn't concern us now. We close it and move it to another shelf, farther out of our reach, so that we don't get bored again. This type of book, like some rare people. He does not want a small part of you, nor the asceticism of your attention, or the charity of passing your eyes on his lines. He wants your soul, your life, and your blood to mix with you.