There exists a particular magic in old books that transcends their printed words—a tangible history whispered through paper, binding, and margin notes. Each volume contains not just its intended text but layers of human interaction: fingerprints on pages, inscriptions on flyleaves, forgotten flowers pressed between chapters. These artifacts form a silent dialogue across generations, connecting readers who will never meet yet share intimate moments with the same pages. The physicality of antique books tells stories beyond their content. The slight warp of covers exposed to sunlight, the softened edges of frequently turned pages, the distinctive scent arising from decades of organic decay—these qualities create a multisensory experience that digital formats…