Books read, notes made. The sun is out but it's cold. In twenty minutes or so I'll walk down to the station then get the Stansted Express at Cambridge. Still more to read. Of the reading of books there is no end, and that is because as Ecclesiastes [12:12] tells us: Of the making many books there is no end.
So someone has to read them. Every book is read by someone, some time. Go, enjoy. Go, dig. Maybe something from Belfast. Maybe not.