Librarians Series Quotes

They're monsters." "That's what Edward thought." "Oh, yeah? He a friend of yours?" "No, Miss Librarian. Just a main character in a wildly popular vampire series.

Wouldn't it be good if we could let teachers do what they do best - teach. Not judge each child on a series of standardized exams. Let schools embrace, not exclude, those like me with a different way of thinking. Stop praising literacy with one hand and closing libraries with the other. Let librarians be free to do what they do best: encourage a lifelong love of reading in every child, even the ones without a hope of ever getting an A star.

Do you recall what Thomas Jefferson said? ‘If a law is unjust, a man is not only right to disobey it, he is obligated to do so.’ Gandhi agreed. ‘An unjust law is itself a species of violence. Arrest for its breach is more

The unknowing masses don’t realize they are trapped in a tangle of subterfuge and slowly suffocating inside a counterfeit paradise.

A peace maintained by that much death is a false peace,

The truth is the truth whether someone believes it or not. It will not change, but truth has an interesting way of working. It stays the same and waits patiently while everyone else changes.

There are so many things that you have no idea about, dreams which remain on your tongue when you speak, unappreciated in crossing the sea of imagination. Places to travel to when there is no one left to blame, hidden realms where invitations were long engraved but now gather dust, unopened.

-¿Qué clase de cosas puedes romper? -De todo tipo. Puertas, dispositivos electrónicos, mesas... Una vez rompí un pollo. -¿Un pollo? -Sí, estaba de excursión. Me... frustré y cogí un pollo. Cuando lo solté, se le cayeron de golpe todas las plumas y, a partir de entonces, se negó a comer otra cosa que no fuera comida para gatos.

Exhibit D: The Cots (or, If You Give a Librarian a Closet) If you give a librarian a closet, she will probably fill it with junk. If she fills it with junk, some of the junk will be books in need of repair. If some of the junk is books, and the closet is off of a back room anyway, she will hide more books there, books that she thinks are crap like the Stormy Sisters series, but which her boss thinks the library should keep. If she hides crappy books there, she will be in no rush to clean the closet, since she would then be out a hiding place. If she goes ten months without cleaning it, she will go to great lengths to hide the mess from her alcoholic and temperamental boss. If she wants to hide the mess from her boss, she will stuff the front of the closet with cots that were once used for nap hour of the short-lived library day care, circa 1996. If she stuffs the closet with cots… the closet will fester unopened for months. If the closet festers unopened for months, the librarian will probably decorate the closet door with cartoons and posters in an effort to distract her fellow librarians from the thought of ever opening the closet. If a librarian decorates a closet door, she will use such items as a Conan the Librarian cartoon, a large stocker that says “the world is quiet here,” a poster of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, a CPR chart, and a bookstore café napkin signed by Michael Chabon. If she uses these items, her boss will ask, “What the hell does this mean, ‘The world is quiet here’? Is it political?” And her boss will also ask, “you’re not filing Michael Chabon in the children’s section, are you?” but her boss, distracted by these items, will never think to open the door. If her boss never opens the door, she will forget she has given the librarian a closet and will, by the end of the year, offer the librarian a second closet. If she gives the librarian a second closet, the librarian will probably fill it with junk.

Unfortunately, I know that some of you Hushlanders have trouble counting to three. (The Librarian- controlled schools don't want you to be able to manage complex mathematics.) So I've prepared this helpful guide. Definition of "book one": The best place to start a series. You can identify "book one" by the fact that it has a little "1" on the spine. Smedrys do a happy dance when you read book one first. Entropy shakes its angry fist at you for being clever enough to organize the world. Definition of "book two": The book you read after book one. If you start with book two, I will make fun of you. (Okay, so I'll make fun of you either way. But honestly, do you want to give me more ammunition?) Definition of "book three": The worst place, currently, to start a series. If you start here, I will throw things at you. Definition of "book four": And . . . how'd you manage to start with that one? I haven't even written it yet. (You sneaky time travelers.)

Following its publication in 1981, Saints, Slaves, and Blacks received further scrutiny from scholars in a series of reviews published in newspapers and professional journals. Stanford J. Layton, Managing Editor of the Utah Historical Quarterly, praised the book in the Salt Lake Tribune. The volume, Layton opined, projected “the heft and feel of scholarship . . . apparent on every page,” which deserved the attention of all those seeking to understand “how a racially discriminatory priesthood policy emerged during Mormonism’s formative years and solidified over time.”21 Likewise, Eli M. Oboler, head librarian at Idaho State University in Pocatello, Idaho, wrote in the Idaho State Journal and characterized the volume as

Sample opening: “Yes, this is the Crime Club… I’m the librarian. Silent Witness? Yes, we have that Crime Club story for you. Come right over.” Then the “reader” (listener) would arrive, and the “librarian” would put him in “the easy chair by the window.” The book was opened, and the story began. An earlier series, The Eno Crime Club, was also composed in part from Crime Club novels.

A government that uses prisons as a tool to control is destined to become imprisoned by its control.

Two other applicants were talking in the corner of the room. Normally Hope would’ve disregarded the distant chatter, but she had distinctly heard the phrase “Krom’s Canyon.” She swiveled her head to look at them. A fairly good-looking guy in a shirt-and-tie combination just casual enough to look much better than any truly formal clothes ever could was talking with a woman who was working her hardest to look like she was radiating a sexy librarian vibe by accident. “The way you had to work back and forth across the bridges with limited cover, taking out psychos blocking your path while the turret at the end of the canyon tried to gun you down, was just epic. It’s probably my favorite map in the entire series, even though it’s in my least favorite of the games. The writing was just so much better from two onward, though around five it started losing steam again.” Borderlands, Hope thought. They’re talking about the Borderlands games. Why can’t I be over there, talking games with them, instead of being stuck with, um, Bill Murray in Caddyshack. What was that character’s name? Carl something? Hmm. Well, I bet I know who’ll know.

Two other applicants were talking in the corner of the room. Normally Hope would’ve disregarded the distant chatter, but she had distinctly heard the phrase “Krom’s Canyon.” She swiveled her head to look at them. A fairly good-looking guy in a shirt-and-tie combination just casual enough to look much better than any truly formal clothes ever could was talking with a woman who was working her hardest to look like she was radiating a sexy librarian vibe by accident. “The way you had to work back and forth across the bridges with limited cover, taking out psychos blocking your path while the turret at the end of the canyon tried to gun you down, was just epic. It’s probably my favorite map in the entire series, even though it’s in my least favorite of the games. The writing was just so much better from two onward, though around five it started losing steam again.” Borderlands, Hope thought. They’re talking about the Borderlands games. Why can’t I be over there, talking games with them.

I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?” Perhaps

Hamlet. “To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and, by a sleep to say we end The heartache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come . . .

Books are more than words, they’re dreams, ideas, and answers, and that is why they fear them,” he said to himself.

"For crushing your foot, please let me buy your drink." "That's not necessary, I'm buying for me and my friends." She pointed to a nearby table where three women laughed. "All the more reason for me to insist. Then you and your friends can talk about what a gentleman I am." "How can I refuse? Four hot chocolates, please." "Put it on my tab, Mr. Yu." Mr. Yu smiled at him. "Sure, Jack." The Julemarked residents didn't keep track of such things, but Jack was happy to take the credit. "Your tab?" the woman asked. "You work here?" "In the bakery, with my brothers." Jack pointed to Kringle All the Way. "You should stop in when you're ready for something sweet." "Brothers in a bakery? That's a romance series waiting to happen. I wouldn't be able to keep those books on the shelf." "Do you work in a bookstore?" "Better. I'm a librarian."

I’m late.” His eyes widened and mouth went slack. “We’re having a baby?

I want to be your husband first. At least your boyfriend. You will be mine before your first child is.

What’s your favorite genre and book?” “Hmm.” Her short finger went to her chin as she thought about my question. “I would have to say romance is my favorite genre just because I’m a sap for love, but I do read any and everything. My second favorite would probably be mystery then paranormal and historic romance.

Who the hell would want to kill me? I’m no one. I’m a librarian, for fuck’s sake.

For the last fucking time, it’s Dr. Caine, and that’s a rather elegant way to demand the theft of monumental text from a hostage librarian.

You have exceeded my every expectation, love. You are so much more than the meek little librarian I watched from the windows at the university.” “The fact that you think that’s a normal statement proves I’ve fallen for an absolute lunatic. I’ll add stalking to your lengthy list of offenses.” “You’ve fallen for me, have you?” Cade asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glossed over the rest of her insults and focused on that one, weighty word. “Yes, fallen, as in I’ve leapt from the edge of reason and plummeted into the chasm of whatever blissful insanity this is.” “What lovely evasion, my dear,” Cade teased playfully as he bent to steal another kiss from her lips. “To think, all of this happened because you wouldn’t hand over a fucking book. As much as it generally vexes me, perhaps I should be thanking you for your stubbornness. I couldn’t bend you to my will if I tried. And, as we both are intimately aware, I have tried. Endlessly.

His prim little librarian was a shockingly good fuck. One of the best he’d had, and the list was very extensive.

Who the hell would want to kill me? I’m no one. I’m a librarian, for fuck’s sake.

Maybe his prim little librarian was a little more naughty than she seemed.

He was getting tired of the dark, musty room and the librarian bitch.

The girl has been stubborn. She just needs a bit of rough persuasion, and I’m more than willing to oblige. Trust me, she’ll break easy enough.” “She’s a librarian, not MI6 for Christ’s sake.

Think you can do any better, boss? Be my guest,” Jace said curtly, gesturing to Kara like she was a nicely wrapped gift. Though that was certainly how he liked his presents wrapped, Cade wasn’t sure that the librarian was the kind of gift he would enjoy.

I know it means you’ll be spending more time at the university, but I’m willing to sacrifice for the good of the academic community. Just as long as I still get to fuck my dirty little librarian every night.

However, since tonight is all about testing her limits, I think using my belt has a poetic symmetry. Although, I doubt my little librarian would agree with my idea of poetry.

Even though I’ve briefly considered setting her free for her own good, the truth is I’m a selfish man. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep my fire-hearted librarian thoroughly ensnared in my arms. I would kidnap her from her fancy fucking university tonight if I thought I was in any danger of losing her. I would cuff her to the bed in the hideaway and leave her down there with regular fuckings and feedings until she saw bloody sense. I’m a brutal man, but my love seems kinder because she hasn’t forced me to go to those extremes. Yet.

The Ashford I know likes his girls red at the very least. Is the little librarian turning you soft?” “Well, the Satan I know wouldn’t let his lowly slave look at other Doms as though she deserves to suck their cocks.

Life is a spiritual roller coaster. Hang on!

As sad as I was over my lack of a desire to connect with the opposite sex, there was a peace that came from it.

Come here.” Slowly, she lifted off the bed. After she took one step toward me, I added “crawl.

day I wished my mother would step up and stand up for me, but that was my fault for expecting something she couldn’t even do for herself.

My grin was wide as I strutted inside with a fast pace. Standing between the information and checkout desks and the computers section, I closed my eyes and allowed my sense of smell to take over. Immediately, my nostrils were engulfed by my favorite scent—books. As soon as I opened my eyes again, I had to resist releasing the clipped squeal that tried to come out as I skipped toward the aisles of long, thick bookshelves.

They can change everything if there are no physical books to verify what was actually written

There is no greater force in the universe than the recognition of the dream and the knowledge that all energy emanates from one source. Whatever name you call it, this thing is best described as love.” That

The ornament of time is a way of looking at life, the world, and the entire universe. It makes it easier for our minds to comprehend our connection to the other people and events that surround us. Speaking and thinking in terms of “one hundred years ago” is something we can understand; a linear look into the past, or our own age, or picturing the future as a date so many “years” ahead. But it is not much different from seeing the ocean as three meters deep because below that it is dark, or assuming that the stars visible in the night sky are all there is. Time is a funny thing because it is a pool we swim in rather than a path we walk.

A guy comes into the library with an overdue book. The librarian says, ‘This book about amnesia was due four weeks ago!’ The guy says, ‘Really? I forgot.

On the whole, booksellers dislike librarians. To realise a good price for a book, it has to be in decent condition, and there is nothing librarians like more than taking a perfectly good book and covering it with stamps and stickers before – and with no sense of irony – putting a plastic sleeve over the dust jacket to protect it from the public. The final ignominy for a book that has been in the dubious care of a public library is for the front free endpaper to be ripped out and a ‘DISCARD’ stamp whacked firmly onto the title page, before it is finally made available for members of the public to buy in a sale. The value of a book that has been through the library system is usually less than a quarter of one that has not.