I've got books that are thirty or more years old that I've read many, many times, and will continue to read as I've enjoyed them so much, Roger Zelazney being one such author, William Gibson another. Zelazney has such a way with language that I just keep going back to them. Other books have a quality to the story that takes me back time and time again. In fact, I've managed to replace a number of very dog-eared paperbacks with hardbacks, Zelazney's Today We Choose Faces and The Doors Of His Face, The Lamps Of His Mouth and Other Stories Arthur C Clarke's The City And The Stars/The Lion Of Comarre and Tanith Lee's When The Lights Go Out. There are others I've read that I wouldn't bother reading again for one reason or another, and there have been a couple that left such an impression that I couldn't read again them for many years, no matter how hard I tried. One, The Wizard Of The Pigeons, about a damaged Vietnam vet in Seattle battling real and imagined demons was so downbeat it was twenty years before I read it a second time. I fail to see why you wouldn't re-read a book if you enjoyed it, same as music, or a whisky, or a curry. Makes no sense to me.