T. Espedal -- Against Art p52:
A garden on the roof. Growing in towards the living room and continuing there, so it seemed, flowers were everywhere. Flowers and books, books in a long bookcase that had been specially made and took up the entire wall, a wall of leather-bound books, red, black, brown backs with gilt and silver lettering, they ran across the wall like joined-up secret writing; I couldn't yet read, but the presence of this wall made me realize the importance of books. It was as if a stillness emanated from the books, from this part of the living room that resembled a library.