Why is it that when we grow up, people stop reading aloud to each other? Is it that the pleasure of reading to yourself is assumed to be greater than that of being read to? Two different facets of the same jewel … Poetry, especially – if the reader is a good one – oh, poetry is so juicy when it’s read out loud. Or Green Eggs and Ham. Or Shakespeare: make mine Macbeth! The scene where he wigs out at the banquet! Read to someone today, or better yet, get someone to read to you.

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