There once was a place where I was teased, ridiculed and even beat upon. Enduring the torment day by day, I grew tired. I started to hate life and even sought to end my own. But once day, I stepped into a strange portal and found it to be a sanctuary of friends, peers, and role models. It was the library… and it was also my home.
Shelves and shelves withholding the insides of people’s minds. Their knowledge, as far as they are aware, their ideas and speculations, their cascades of emotion, yearnings and explicit joy, the stories of all those who have lived and the dreams waiting to take flight.
Saraj tiptoed into the library, balking at the silvery lines that were tracing themselves across the shelves. Everything was falling apart. Where was Drei? She needed him. She NEEDED him. It was no longer a matter of wishing or idle dreams any longer, but the desperate assurance of a desperate future.
It was among the must of old books and the silence of students that they found each other, hunching behind the towering bookshelves, whispering secrets over tomes of poetry and finding romance in the subtle rustling of turning pages.
Her eyes passed over the building with something close to mourn – the old fashioned architecture laid beautifully arrayed before her, the wooden doors inviting her inside. Through the yellow-tinted windows, beyond the reflections of the oak leaves, she could see nimble fingers slip an old leater-incased book from the shelves.
is the most wonderful place on earth. the most innovative invention, the most beautiful discovery. a completely new world of dreams imagination and reality.
many young boys wouldnt want to spend their free time in the public library, surrounded by the tall shelves of old books and the musty smells of ancient crumbling pages, except maybe skye trevor.
Minutes before midnight, I scoured the library, hoping my new LED flashlight wasn’t being seen from outside. I avoided the regular shelves. What I was searching for wouldn’t be on display. It would be hidden. I found a door with a lock. Two kicks and I was through it. Stairs led down to either a dungeon or a basement. Once there, I still didn’t know which it was. There were bookshelves and implements of torture and terror. I ignored the implements and went to the shelves. There I found what might be the last surviving copy of The Great Grimoire. Unfortunately, the lights came on before I had a chance to even glance at the pages. I guess my LED flashlight attracted more notice that I had hoped.
My town apparently is building a new library, and my parents are all upset about spending the money. I remember going to the library as a kid, and entering a summer reading contest. I didn’t realize at the time that I was dyselxic. Yet, I think a new library is a good idea. Even though, I still dread reading.
The place I have many memories. Fun times with friends, quiet solitude. the place of knowledge and of learning and discovery and observation. Many people spend time at the library who desire to stimulate their senses and let their mind wander. I wish I had more time in the day and was less lazy and would go to hang out there and give my brain some well needed exercise and love.
Fear. That I will never know what it can teach me. Joy, that I will always have something left to learn. Alone but welcome. Biased, but unjudging friends. The smell of worn paper overwhelms.
annoying I hate that you have to be quiet and everyone stares at eachother and this is where i always see peter and he creeps idk if i like it? i go there for the people anyway its a good time i only listen to music no work gets done
The library is jmy heavan i read there i LOVE READING IT IS INSPRIRATION TO ME. t is anamazing plae we learn so much from library
The lirary is a place where we habe s much
We the people read alpt
The stillness of the shelves whispered to her of love lost, histories defended, futures untold, and several other mysteries. She dug out a book from the middle of the row, opened up the cover, and smelled the pages. It was peaceful.
Everyday in Freshman year, I would go to the library and find my peers huddled around a chessboard. There, I was a friend. There I was home. There, I was king. It didn’t matter how many times I got beat up, I knew that for once, I had a home.
books, awesome smell, quiet spaces. people wandering aimlessly, children laughing, old people handling books. coughing sneezing. loving, finding new treasures. late fees. wanting to escape. a place to relax and enjoy life. books.
I went to the library that day. The sky was muddy. My grandpa would always say these kinds of day suck. But, i though, it coudnt be all that awful. I only had to sign up that bitchs book, and i probably wont have to see them ever again.
at the library are librarians. books are filled with words and stories. the library is a place i never go. libraries are pretty cool, but i associate them with boring things, even though i love to read. the library is a magical place. silent library is a tv show.
once upon a time there was a boy. he lived in the library. he read books to feed his mind. one day he read so many books that his brain started to pulse. and grow. and it grew so much that it burst. brains were all over the library. it was super nasty. r.i.p.
I hid in between the bookcases, chuckling as they did their utmost to find me. They’d never do it. This library was massive; how they ever thought to play hide and seek in here was beyond me. The mechanics were impossible. I giggled again and pulled a book from the case. Might as well get comfortable.
It was strong and still and imposing, made of red brick and white mortar. We passed by it everyday at our lunch break, but we never went in. I wasn’t sure I wanted to; to me it seemed to hold all the knowledge in the world– too much knowledge.
Today I went to the library. It was full of books. It smelled kind of funny too. I found several things to read about. Some were silly, some were informative and some were in Chinese. I can’t read Chinese, but I checked them out anyway.
once upon a time there was a boy. he lived in the library. he read books to feed his mind. one day he read so many books that his brain started to pulse. and grow. and then it burst. brains were all over the library. r.i.p.
I love the library. You’re supposed to be quiet. Most people are, but now that there are toys there, it’s hard to keep kids quiet or focused on books. They are more interested in computers or puppets or building blocks. But whatever gets people in the door, I suppose. I miss university libraries.
I love the library. The smell of books. The look of all the books and the feel of them. However, one thing I don’t like about libraries are the fines that ensue when I forget or lose the wonderful books that I take home from it…
I spend a lot of time in the library. I looooove to read. Books take you to a world, and it’s so easy to escape. I love being there. It makes me happy, and I don’t ever want to leave, but as soon as I find something interesting to read I just have to go home and begin a new journey.
I spent a lot of time at the library in my youth. A good book was all my soul wanted. I read more than any ten of my friends combined. Every week, I would finish one adventure only to set upon another, or in special cases, begin the adventure anew.
I was first introduced to the library when I was very young. I remember there being a tank in with snakes and other reptiles in the middle. I was always fascinated by the creatures. One time there was a man who took snake out and we lined up to touch it.
The librarys aautiful place. Peaceful. GQuit. Myseterious. tories and adventures lurk around every corner. A low hum of mystery in the air. Wonders and places and people, old books filled with evey knowladge. The most knowladgable place out there.
I was crouched in the library, behind one of the shelves in the back, same as every day after school. I read book after book, amused to think that my classmates barely even know we have a library. It’s my fortress of solitude, no one to make me talk about what happened, no one to make it happen again. Here, I’m Supergirl.
I was crouched in the library, behind one of the shelves in the back, same as every day after school. I read book after book, amused to think that my classmates barely even know we have a library. It’s my fortress of solitude.
There once was a place where I was teased, ridiculed and even beat upon. Enduring the torment day by day, I grew tired. I started to hate life and even sought to end my own. But once day, I stepped into a strange portal and found it to be a sanctuary of friends, peers, and role models. It was the library… and it was also my home.
Shelves and shelves withholding the insides of people’s minds. Their knowledge, as far as they are aware, their ideas and speculations, their cascades of emotion, yearnings and explicit joy, the stories of all those who have lived and the dreams waiting to take flight.
Saraj tiptoed into the library, balking at the silvery lines that were tracing themselves across the shelves. Everything was falling apart. Where was Drei? She needed him. She NEEDED him. It was no longer a matter of wishing or idle dreams any longer, but the desperate assurance of a desperate future.
It was among the must of old books and the silence of students that they found each other, hunching behind the towering bookshelves, whispering secrets over tomes of poetry and finding romance in the subtle rustling of turning pages.
Her eyes passed over the building with something close to mourn – the old fashioned architecture laid beautifully arrayed before her, the wooden doors inviting her inside. Through the yellow-tinted windows, beyond the reflections of the oak leaves, she could see nimble fingers slip an old leater-incased book from the shelves.
It was so very tempting.
is the most wonderful place on earth. the most innovative invention, the most beautiful discovery. a completely new world of dreams imagination and reality.
I crawled into the pages of my book, falling through the thick layers of age and different social conventions. The library is my sanctuary.
many young boys wouldnt want to spend their free time in the public library, surrounded by the tall shelves of old books and the musty smells of ancient crumbling pages, except maybe skye trevor.
Minutes before midnight, I scoured the library, hoping my new LED flashlight wasn’t being seen from outside. I avoided the regular shelves. What I was searching for wouldn’t be on display. It would be hidden. I found a door with a lock. Two kicks and I was through it. Stairs led down to either a dungeon or a basement. Once there, I still didn’t know which it was. There were bookshelves and implements of torture and terror. I ignored the implements and went to the shelves. There I found what might be the last surviving copy of The Great Grimoire. Unfortunately, the lights came on before I had a chance to even glance at the pages. I guess my LED flashlight attracted more notice that I had hoped.
My town apparently is building a new library, and my parents are all upset about spending the money. I remember going to the library as a kid, and entering a summer reading contest. I didn’t realize at the time that I was dyselxic. Yet, I think a new library is a good idea. Even though, I still dread reading.
The place I have many memories. Fun times with friends, quiet solitude. the place of knowledge and of learning and discovery and observation. Many people spend time at the library who desire to stimulate their senses and let their mind wander. I wish I had more time in the day and was less lazy and would go to hang out there and give my brain some well needed exercise and love.
Fear. That I will never know what it can teach me. Joy, that I will always have something left to learn. Alone but welcome. Biased, but unjudging friends. The smell of worn paper overwhelms.
annoying I hate that you have to be quiet and everyone stares at eachother and this is where i always see peter and he creeps idk if i like it? i go there for the people anyway its a good time i only listen to music no work gets done
The library is jmy heavan i read there i LOVE READING IT IS INSPRIRATION TO ME. t is anamazing plae we learn so much from library
The lirary is a place where we habe s much
We the people read alpt
The stillness of the shelves whispered to her of love lost, histories defended, futures untold, and several other mysteries. She dug out a book from the middle of the row, opened up the cover, and smelled the pages. It was peaceful.
Everyday in Freshman year, I would go to the library and find my peers huddled around a chessboard. There, I was a friend. There I was home. There, I was king. It didn’t matter how many times I got beat up, I knew that for once, I had a home.
books, awesome smell, quiet spaces. people wandering aimlessly, children laughing, old people handling books. coughing sneezing. loving, finding new treasures. late fees. wanting to escape. a place to relax and enjoy life. books.
Bookish. Raise your glasses. Shelve, shelves, shelved. Knowledge. Discovery. Call numbers. Catergorised. Compartmentalize. Life.
The library’s always quiet, the people seated with their heads bowed as they enter a score of worlds, a realm of knowledge.
The library was cool and quiet. The smell of old books hung in the air. All around people sat, lost in worlds of fantasy, drama and intrigue.
books windows to other worlds, sets the imagination on fire, cheap vacations in the pages to other worlds and times past and present and furture.
My grandpa used to say, if you have
I went to the library that day. The sky was muddy. My grandpa would always say these kinds of day suck. But, i though, it coudnt be all that awful. I only had to sign up that bitchs book, and i probably wont have to see them ever again.
at the library are librarians. books are filled with words and stories. the library is a place i never go. libraries are pretty cool, but i associate them with boring things, even though i love to read. the library is a magical place. silent library is a tv show.
once upon a time there was a boy. he lived in the library. he read books to feed his mind. one day he read so many books that his brain started to pulse. and grow. and it grew so much that it burst. brains were all over the library. it was super nasty. r.i.p.
I hid in between the bookcases, chuckling as they did their utmost to find me. They’d never do it. This library was massive; how they ever thought to play hide and seek in here was beyond me. The mechanics were impossible. I giggled again and pulled a book from the case. Might as well get comfortable.
It was strong and still and imposing, made of red brick and white mortar. We passed by it everyday at our lunch break, but we never went in. I wasn’t sure I wanted to; to me it seemed to hold all the knowledge in the world– too much knowledge.
Today I went to the library. It was full of books. It smelled kind of funny too. I found several things to read about. Some were silly, some were informative and some were in Chinese. I can’t read Chinese, but I checked them out anyway.
The library was on fire. For once, I had an urge to be a savior. To save a book. To hold it and keep it safe.
once upon a time there was a boy. he lived in the library. he read books to feed his mind. one day he read so many books that his brain started to pulse. and grow. and then it burst. brains were all over the library. r.i.p.
I love the library. You’re supposed to be quiet. Most people are, but now that there are toys there, it’s hard to keep kids quiet or focused on books. They are more interested in computers or puppets or building blocks. But whatever gets people in the door, I suppose. I miss university libraries.
this is where i dream and i am born once more. this is where i enter a fairy world
I love the library. The smell of books. The look of all the books and the feel of them. However, one thing I don’t like about libraries are the fines that ensue when I forget or lose the wonderful books that I take home from it…
I spend a lot of time in the library. I looooove to read. Books take you to a world, and it’s so easy to escape. I love being there. It makes me happy, and I don’t ever want to leave, but as soon as I find something interesting to read I just have to go home and begin a new journey.
I spent a lot of time at the library in my youth. A good book was all my soul wanted. I read more than any ten of my friends combined. Every week, I would finish one adventure only to set upon another, or in special cases, begin the adventure anew.
I was first introduced to the library when I was very young. I remember there being a tank in with snakes and other reptiles in the middle. I was always fascinated by the creatures. One time there was a man who took snake out and we lined up to touch it.
what the hell am i supposed to write about a freaking library??? i hate reading.
The librarys aautiful place. Peaceful. GQuit. Myseterious. tories and adventures lurk around every corner. A low hum of mystery in the air. Wonders and places and people, old books filled with evey knowladge. The most knowladgable place out there.
I was crouched in the library, behind one of the shelves in the back, same as every day after school. I read book after book, amused to think that my classmates barely even know we have a library. It’s my fortress of solitude, no one to make me talk about what happened, no one to make it happen again. Here, I’m Supergirl.
I was crouched in the library, behind one of the shelves in the back, same as every day after school. I read book after book, amused to think that my classmates barely even know we have a library. It’s my fortress of solitude.