Classics are constantly being re-imagined and transformed, and the originals are none the worse for it; they endure.
When I was 20 I was immensely proud of the rows of grey-spined Penguin Modern Classics in my bookcase.
Periodically, I return to the classics for inspiration and refreshment.
I lingered round them, under the benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth. (Wuthering Heights)
