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(Reblogged from ascendingcoherence)
It was the first time since 1893 that I had been arrested, but, constantly expecting to fall into the clutches of the law, I had made it a practice to carry a book with me when going to meetings. I wrapped my skirts around me, climbed up on the board placed for a bed in my cell, pressed close to the barred door, through which shimmered a light, and started to read.
Emma Goldman, in her autobiography Living My Life. When I read this aloud to W., he said, “the same reason I do it!” (Though I doubt Emma Goldman would take a book along to walk the dog. Ahem.) One of the amusing things about Emma is that, though she doesn’t like being arrested, she always manages to turn it into a mini-vacation where she can get some reading done. Her day-to-day life was so hectic, she was glad for some concentrated study time. (via ascendingcoherence)
