This sort of heavenly hot air quite warmed him, insulated him from the real world. For a while.
That morning his father had leaned over and put a finger on Martin's abdomen. "Doesn't look to me like a pemmican and tea diet. Not with that belly."
Martin's eyes widened with pained embarrassment. His father, not seeming to notice, went on in a friendly way. "So you're still reading that stuff, are you? Good. Reading never hurt anybody."
Other things hurt people, Martin thought miserably. Mean personal remarks hurt people.
-- The Explorer of Barkham Street by Mary Stolz