When I visited my parents a few years back and got the regular flu, I was never able to go through my past books and recommend some of them. I am able to do it now because my parents are moving houses (surprisingly moving into a bigger not smaller one) and must get rid of some stuff (theirs and mine). I went painstakingly through all my books, two hours worth, stating what I wanted to keep and what I was willing to depart with and have someone else read them. It was easier than I thought as many were past school books and books I will never read again. Karl Marx? Probably not. Sociology? Probably not. Criminology? Probably not. Self help books? Probably not. Feminism? Probably not. Art books? Probably not. If I lived in a large house with a larger study, I would be more apt to keep every one of them. Even though I decided to part ways, these books are still worthy to read. There is no going back except with one of them. It sells for $60 to $125 for a used copy and I’d rather keep it than have no one read it and possibly thrown away. Now, someone else has a chance to read them or horde them or learn from them. I’d say out of all the fiction books, Hitman was the best and out of the non-fiction, Stiffed. It’s a new time for me in a way. I’m learning to let things go (mentally and physically). If you need more proof, I got rid of some Stephen King and Anne Rice books and that’s obscene in a way. Out with the old and in with the new.