[Alice Green speaks] Oh, well, of course there they’ve got every book that’s worth reading, any book that’s of value, you know. It’s there, and you can take it down and you can read it. But then again, you see, you don’t have to read, really. It’s funny, isn’t it. There isn’t much point in having books really.
[Betty Greene a sitter speaks] You don’t have to read?
[Alice Green speaks] Well, not in the same kind of way.
[Betty Green speaks] Well, how do you assimilate what is in the books?
[Alice Green speaks] Well, I don’t know. It’s as if the book speaks to you. They really don’t, of course not really.
[Betty Green speaks] Can you take the books out of the library if you want to?
[Alice Green speaks] Oh, as far as you can take the books out, I should say, you know, but, oh yes, you can take things home, but it’s really not necessary. That’s the funny part about it, when you come to think about it. There’s everything, everything there that you expect, that you would want, but you soon begin to realize that many of the things are not really necessary in quite the same sort of way. If you mentally sort of tune in to a particular something or somebody that you want a communication, or telepathy. It isn’t as if you have to borrow a book and read it as such. It’s as if you want to know about the book, perhaps a very famous book, you can either read it, but when you begin to realize that this book can express itself to you. But honestly how it’s done I don’t know. It’s as if you can sit there and you can close your eyes and you can hold the book in your hands and all the happenings in the book can just sort of tell you. You know, yes it’s funny, but I don’t know. So instead of getting, you know, your own idea, which may not be quite what was intended, you can get the identical thought impressions of the author and publisher, you know.