Libraries. They’re interesting. You know, I haven’t been to one in FOREVER. I pretty much lived in my public library as a kid. It was my escape, it made me happy. (smiley face)
Library.
The place of relaxation.
One place where an individual could live their life as another individual, living another life.
It’s the place of diversity; of action, romance, history.
A place of silence– yet the many novels are screaming at you all at once, grabbing your attention.
reading and bleeding the words the author wrote
stealing a book even though you aren’t broke
doodling in it’s pages and writing troubling notes
never saying anything because the book already spoke.
In the last few years, I have acquired so many of my writings.
I have stacks of journals – I talked about nothing in them,
But it seems I’ve created a library of sorts.
It helps me know a bit more about myself.
I just read a bunch of entries about “library”. I wonder if the only word on this site is library, or maybe it’s the first one that everyone gets. I enjoy libraries, but sometimes I’m afraid that the person who had the book before me had a cold.
when we first started going to the library together i was surprised at how well we could work together. i think that’s when i first started falling, because that’s when you know you really click with someone. you can work together, and that’s the nicest kind of camaraderie.
home of books, writing, my obsession, place of refuge, why i don’t kill myself, where my bffs are the place where william made me laugh a playground of literature a building in which worlds are kept hidden away in pages
They found him dead in the library, paled with a terrified look in his gaping eyes. A grimoire lay close to him amidst the eerie silence of sleeping books.
Now I already know where this is going to go. You there, me here, we gawk, a little bit silly, with rows of words, well, bound-up (leather/paperwork/whatever) words, all of these beautiful words, all quaintly queuing, waiting for their next reader, whilst we, yes well I at least, find my eyes trying to read the poetry of your face. Gosh, with all these words in between us two I guess I could smuggle some sweet syllables to give to you. But perhaps for now it is too late, there are too many words already written on the once-clear slate, and I feel myself choking on the choices of words, my dearest friends usually, but now the furthest. I continue to sit, shifting my attention back to my paperback friend; I turn the page,
I go to the library often now, and I gaze out the large window that overlooks the city, bits of it that I am unfamiliar with. I know that you have watched this same scene, and I wonder how the word appears through your eyes, what tint the colours take, what memories you have made on the other side of the glass that I will never be privy to.
I see the words stack themselves up, each other the other next to one another, there’s a line; a rhyme, a little fact hidden amongst the factions of interactions of words. They all rhyme their lies as to hide what would be… a mystery. But that’s not enough for us, we need to store our knowledge away in a dusty container of a building, gawking at our wonderfulness for the wondering minutes, but never opening up one second of wisdom to read: our minds wandering towards thinking about lunch, our envy of that girl’s hair, or how-to kiss him there. The truth, knowledge, common sense and good taste; It’s all just a lie, so who cares. Pass me that magazine my dear.
L is the love of the smell of old pages.
I is the person who reads these words
B is the books that decorate these walls
R is the ragged scripts of old
A is the almanac. I don’t know what that means.
R is the rug I used to sit on reading as a child
Y is why a read. for an adventure every day.
The library was cool and dank when he approached it and watched The Reader breathe life into the characters. They rose from the pages of their respective novels, and danced together in a beautiful story. He watched The Reader’s mind bloom, unravelling at the seams and reworking itself into something new and open.
It was a glorious, brilliant, painful process, and he was in awe.
the spellbound lives of people frozen in time
more life in them than the people that read
their day to day lives don’t compare
with a person who’s never existed
they are confined to the dusty pages
but you are full of life and opportunity
seize it
the library. one place I could come for solitude. for sanctuary. I cannot believe so much has changed since the last shift in the earth. so much has died… so much pain… I couldn’t bear to think about it anymore. I stood, and threw out my chair from behind me. I was done. Done playing their game. Im coming home.
i’ve never been to an actual library
i’ve been in bookstores but not libraries
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
is it any different anyways?
i mean you pay in one and you rent in the other one
i’d rather buy, then i’ll keep those books forever
Library of books that lead nowherew, that never take me deep enough, enough to understand the immensity of the these feelings I hold in my hands, and all I can do is helplessly watch as they slip between the fingertips of the truth, and fall into the cushioning of the reassuring lies, I keep telling myself. No not a library of book can lead me out of the depths of the unknown.
a place where you look for a book, when you find the book you want you read it and you can also purchase books in some of the libraries or rent a book, there are thousands of books in a library and you can always find a book that you like, by reading books you can improve your reading skills
I go there all the time. They have books . It is wonderful. It is americas source of knowledge. Many people find library amazing without it we would be in trouble, because ofi it we are smart.I am happy to have one.Usually there atre public libraries everywhere.
Do I have to write about libraries forever or can I get new words? Instead of reading the instructions I didn’t, so now you have these words about library.
The library is a place where you can buy books, many many, books, all in one spectacular place. It’s filled to the brim with beautiful, amazing and inspiring histories, fiction and people’s life’s work. These are the are no other other places as cultural to the Western world as this.
books, books everywhere, words, and I won’t see many of them . I don’t know why I want to, and I never can seem to finish them, but I want them, all deep in my skin. I want to feel them, sense them, taste them, and fall in love with them. I want to hate them. I want to die with them.
books and a shelf with john stuart mill studying is hard and i hate university right now reading is awesome especially if you get a good book many shelves and issbnn numbers or something i like to read elevators and student card swipe in cle
The library is one of my favorite places that I just don’t go to enough! I love getting lost in the world of books. There is something about books that have such an impact that television will luckily never match. As a teacher I hope to always spread my love for reading and when I am a mother there will be frequent trips to the library.
I love the library because it’s full of books. There’s only on library in my town, and it’s very low funded. it’s where dreams, wishes, and hopes are all crammed into one warm little bulding. . where everything can be free. . and imagination can form. reading is a passion, but sometimes it can be an escape.
The library is where I feel most at home at school. There are always friends and love and books and perfection. The librarian is the worst. But you know. I’ve always found places with books to hold solace. Library.
Libraries are great places to go. You can learn so much and meet great people. One time I met this great guy there. We both had had our eyes on this book that had come out. Both of us being new college freshmen, we were broke and were forced to rely on the library to read it. We ended up reading it together. Now we’ve been dating for six months and I couldn’t be happier.
She doesn’t want a
blank page relationship.
She wants a whole book
not it’s summary.
It’s a double standard
and a war between
the heart and head.
She vomits inspiration
and
venom.
I used to go to the library a lot as a kid. In elementary school, I would find ways to sneak out of class to hide out in the library. I would read whatever book I could find, didn’t matter what it was about. Every subject was interesting. Nothing bored me. But my favorite topic to read about was mediaeval royal families.
A place commonly associated with silence, however simultaneously associated with learning. Two words that can be thought of as antithetical in many fashions.
What a wonderfully interesting word choice! I was startled by seeing this word,not sure where it came from and why it was on the screen. It is so often where i am to be found, en route to, applying for jobs in, making a list for, piling returns to . . .
What am I but a library of reminiscence? Something dusty, neglected, unwanted, burdened, plagued by your every thought. Sitting collecting. My very being pressed between each page, like a flower, beautiful but dead. What am I?
The place I go for silence and reflection. A place where i go meet my muse. The smell of creativity meets me there and words begin to dance. It is my favorite place, the library, a place to rest my soul.
I am in one now. 24 hours Meyer.
Not my favorite. I prefer Art library. It’s big and full of interesting books.
Library hopping in Stanford has to come to an end. The winner is the Art library.
Libraries. They’re interesting. You know, I haven’t been to one in FOREVER. I pretty much lived in my public library as a kid. It was my escape, it made me happy. (smiley face)
Library.
The place of relaxation.
One place where an individual could live their life as another individual, living another life.
It’s the place of diversity; of action, romance, history.
A place of silence– yet the many novels are screaming at you all at once, grabbing your attention.
reading and bleeding the words the author wrote
stealing a book even though you aren’t broke
doodling in it’s pages and writing troubling notes
never saying anything because the book already spoke.
In the last few years, I have acquired so many of my writings.
I have stacks of journals – I talked about nothing in them,
But it seems I’ve created a library of sorts.
It helps me know a bit more about myself.
I just read a bunch of entries about “library”. I wonder if the only word on this site is library, or maybe it’s the first one that everyone gets. I enjoy libraries, but sometimes I’m afraid that the person who had the book before me had a cold.
when we first started going to the library together i was surprised at how well we could work together. i think that’s when i first started falling, because that’s when you know you really click with someone. you can work together, and that’s the nicest kind of camaraderie.
home of books, writing, my obsession, place of refuge, why i don’t kill myself, where my bffs are the place where william made me laugh a playground of literature a building in which worlds are kept hidden away in pages
They found him dead in the library, paled with a terrified look in his gaping eyes. A grimoire lay close to him amidst the eerie silence of sleeping books.
The library was a dark and dreary place. Old, age stained books filled the dillapodated shelves. It was in diar need of a renovation.
Now I already know where this is going to go. You there, me here, we gawk, a little bit silly, with rows of words, well, bound-up (leather/paperwork/whatever) words, all of these beautiful words, all quaintly queuing, waiting for their next reader, whilst we, yes well I at least, find my eyes trying to read the poetry of your face. Gosh, with all these words in between us two I guess I could smuggle some sweet syllables to give to you. But perhaps for now it is too late, there are too many words already written on the once-clear slate, and I feel myself choking on the choices of words, my dearest friends usually, but now the furthest. I continue to sit, shifting my attention back to my paperback friend; I turn the page,
I go to the library often now, and I gaze out the large window that overlooks the city, bits of it that I am unfamiliar with. I know that you have watched this same scene, and I wonder how the word appears through your eyes, what tint the colours take, what memories you have made on the other side of the glass that I will never be privy to.
I see the words stack themselves up, each other the other next to one another, there’s a line; a rhyme, a little fact hidden amongst the factions of interactions of words. They all rhyme their lies as to hide what would be… a mystery. But that’s not enough for us, we need to store our knowledge away in a dusty container of a building, gawking at our wonderfulness for the wondering minutes, but never opening up one second of wisdom to read: our minds wandering towards thinking about lunch, our envy of that girl’s hair, or how-to kiss him there. The truth, knowledge, common sense and good taste; It’s all just a lie, so who cares. Pass me that magazine my dear.
L is the love of the smell of old pages.
I is the person who reads these words
B is the books that decorate these walls
R is the ragged scripts of old
A is the almanac. I don’t know what that means.
R is the rug I used to sit on reading as a child
Y is why a read. for an adventure every day.
The library was cool and dank when he approached it and watched The Reader breathe life into the characters. They rose from the pages of their respective novels, and danced together in a beautiful story. He watched The Reader’s mind bloom, unravelling at the seams and reworking itself into something new and open.
It was a glorious, brilliant, painful process, and he was in awe.
the spellbound lives of people frozen in time
more life in them than the people that read
their day to day lives don’t compare
with a person who’s never existed
they are confined to the dusty pages
but you are full of life and opportunity
seize it
the library. one place I could come for solitude. for sanctuary. I cannot believe so much has changed since the last shift in the earth. so much has died… so much pain… I couldn’t bear to think about it anymore. I stood, and threw out my chair from behind me. I was done. Done playing their game. Im coming home.
i’ve never been to an actual library
i’ve been in bookstores but not libraries
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
is it any different anyways?
i mean you pay in one and you rent in the other one
i’d rather buy, then i’ll keep those books forever
Library of books that lead nowherew, that never take me deep enough, enough to understand the immensity of the these feelings I hold in my hands, and all I can do is helplessly watch as they slip between the fingertips of the truth, and fall into the cushioning of the reassuring lies, I keep telling myself. No not a library of book can lead me out of the depths of the unknown.
a place where you look for a book, when you find the book you want you read it and you can also purchase books in some of the libraries or rent a book, there are thousands of books in a library and you can always find a book that you like, by reading books you can improve your reading skills
I go there all the time. They have books . It is wonderful. It is americas source of knowledge. Many people find library amazing without it we would be in trouble, because ofi it we are smart.I am happy to have one.Usually there atre public libraries everywhere.
this is a place in which one can discover many worlds and fantysies through the written words of others. This is a sanctuary of brilliant thought.
Do I have to write about libraries forever or can I get new words? Instead of reading the instructions I didn’t, so now you have these words about library.
The library is a place where you can buy books, many many, books, all in one spectacular place. It’s filled to the brim with beautiful, amazing and inspiring histories, fiction and people’s life’s work. These are the are no other other places as cultural to the Western world as this.
I wrote this one already. Sublime. Then I messed up and lost it. Library.
books, books everywhere, words, and I won’t see many of them . I don’t know why I want to, and I never can seem to finish them, but I want them, all deep in my skin. I want to feel them, sense them, taste them, and fall in love with them. I want to hate them. I want to die with them.
books and a shelf with john stuart mill studying is hard and i hate university right now reading is awesome especially if you get a good book many shelves and issbnn numbers or something i like to read elevators and student card swipe in cle
The library is one of my favorite places that I just don’t go to enough! I love getting lost in the world of books. There is something about books that have such an impact that television will luckily never match. As a teacher I hope to always spread my love for reading and when I am a mother there will be frequent trips to the library.
The library is silence. Yet beautiful silence. I hate when it it broken. I’ve never met a person in a library I didn’t enjoy. Solace. Peace. Silence.
I love the library because it’s full of books. There’s only on library in my town, and it’s very low funded. it’s where dreams, wishes, and hopes are all crammed into one warm little bulding. . where everything can be free. . and imagination can form. reading is a passion, but sometimes it can be an escape.
The library is where I feel most at home at school. There are always friends and love and books and perfection. The librarian is the worst. But you know. I’ve always found places with books to hold solace. Library.
I love going to the library. It’s an amazing place and full of adventures just waiting to be read!
Libraries are great places to go. You can learn so much and meet great people. One time I met this great guy there. We both had had our eyes on this book that had come out. Both of us being new college freshmen, we were broke and were forced to rely on the library to read it. We ended up reading it together. Now we’ve been dating for six months and I couldn’t be happier.
She doesn’t want a
blank page relationship.
She wants a whole book
not it’s summary.
It’s a double standard
and a war between
the heart and head.
She vomits inspiration
and
venom.
I used to go to the library a lot as a kid. In elementary school, I would find ways to sneak out of class to hide out in the library. I would read whatever book I could find, didn’t matter what it was about. Every subject was interesting. Nothing bored me. But my favorite topic to read about was mediaeval royal families.
A place commonly associated with silence, however simultaneously associated with learning. Two words that can be thought of as antithetical in many fashions.
What a wonderfully interesting word choice! I was startled by seeing this word,not sure where it came from and why it was on the screen. It is so often where i am to be found, en route to, applying for jobs in, making a list for, piling returns to . . .
What am I but a library of reminiscence? Something dusty, neglected, unwanted, burdened, plagued by your every thought. Sitting collecting. My very being pressed between each page, like a flower, beautiful but dead. What am I?
i dont know what to say —first time–im happy to meet such a person
The place I go for silence and reflection. A place where i go meet my muse. The smell of creativity meets me there and words begin to dance. It is my favorite place, the library, a place to rest my soul.
I am in one now. 24 hours Meyer.
Not my favorite. I prefer Art library. It’s big and full of interesting books.
Library hopping in Stanford has to come to an end. The winner is the Art library.