For him that stealth, or borrowed and returned not, this book from its owner, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with palsy, and all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain, crying aloud for mercy, and let there be no surcease to this agony till he sings in dissolution. Let bookworms gnaw his entrails in token of the worm that diet not, and when at last he Goethe to his last punishment, let the flames of hell consume him for

Inkheart