The Things that make us Happy make us Wise

"She pulled the chain, and when the loud crash of contrary waters was done she unbelted and stepped from her gown, shuddered, and climbed carefully into the tub. The gothic bathroom had filled with steam. It's sort of gothic was really more woodland than church; the vaulting of it arched above Daily Alice's head and interlaced like meeting branches, and everywhere carven ivy, leaves, tendrils, and vines were in restless biomorphic motion. On the surface of the narrow stained-glass windows, dew formed in drops on cartoon-bright trees, and on the distant hunters and vague fields which the trees framed; and when the sun on its lazy way had lit up all twelve of these, bejewelling the fog that rose from her bath, Daily Alice lay in a pool in a medival forest. Her great-grandfather had designed the room, but another had made the glass. His middle name was comfort and that's what Daily Alice felt. She even sang."
Ever have one of those moments were you begin a book and suddenly feel this sense of magical recognition like: "This book was made for ME. This book is written by one of MY PEOPLE!" That's what I felt as I have dived into "Little, Big" by John Crowley. Also it's 600 pages long...so I have many more delicous pages to go. Thrill! Nice covers too. The one I have is on the bottom.