When I was in high school I had this brilliantly crazy teacher called Mr. Bockius. He was always exciting us into reading things we wouldn't ordinarily be exposed to, like Evelyn Waugh, Graham Greene and GK Chesterton in addition to the more typical Hardy and Dickens.
If we said we liked something we read, even if it were just a single sentence, he would in about three second's time give us eleventeen different books to complement what we said we liked. He also made us write essays on topics that popped into his head, probably when he was on acid. I remember one such topic was titled simply "vacuum cleaners and reality." We were left to make sense of that in 1,000 words or more.
I think about Mr. Bockius this morning because I said aloud that someone was inept. Mr. Bockius' highest praise was this: "That's aptly ept and eptly apt."