Showing posts with label but wherever would I hold my nursery rhyme times?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label but wherever would I hold my nursery rhyme times?. Show all posts

Sunday, June 26, 2011

a whiff of old books, a hush, a pensive air...





















Sometimes it seems that the aim of modernity is to flush the romance out of life. the library, with its Daedalian labyrinth, mysteroius hush, and faintly ominous aroma of knowledge, has been replaced by the computer's cheap glow, pesky chirp, and data spillage.

- P.J. O'Rourke