With a book one can escape easily, without running away, just as with music.
Wherever You are. In-between of light pages awaiting bookmark is like a wood-scented ticket to some hidden place, to some slower time.
Your fingertips follow it and suddenly You appear somewhere else, reading under a tree on a hill high above the sinking valleys or maybe somewhere in the lowlands, among verdure close to a sage. Where is safe. Wherever You want it to be.