"Reconciled to the fact that he was going to be spending at least a few days in his whitewashed chicken shed in this mad teetotal wasteland, Israel decided to try and make the place feel a little more like home. He began properly unpacking the rest of his belonging from his old brown suitcase, or at least those that hadnt already been ruined by the wayward shitting chickens: it was books mostly, some clean underwear, and then more books, and books and books and books, the ratio of books to anderwear being about 20:1, books being really the great constant and companion in Israels life; they were always there for you, books, like a small pet dog that doesnt die; they werent like people; they werent treacherous or unreliable and they didnt work late at the office on important projects or go skiing with their friends at Christmas."