An excerpt from Walden

I was reading Walden by Henry David Thoreu today and found the following passage to be of immense interest to me and it makes perfect sense as well.

"Books must be read as thoughtfully as they are written. Its is not enough to be able to speak the language of that nation by which they are written, for there is a space between the spoken and the written language, the language heard and the language read. The one is usually a changing thing, a sound, almost like that of animals. We learn it without knowing, like the animals, from our mothers. The other is the spoken language grown up and experienced, too meaningful to be heard by the ear.
However much we may admire a public speaker's stirring use of words, the noblest written words are commonly as far above the changing spoken language as the heaven with its stars is above the clouds. Up there are the stars, and they who can may read them. They are not bursts of breath like our daily conversations with each other. The speaker lets himself be affected by the passing occasion and speaks to the mob before him, to those who can hear him; the writer, who lives in a quieter and more even life, could not work in the activity and the crowd which help the speaker to do his best. The writer speaks to the mind and heart of mankind, to all in any age who can understand him."