I awakened today, not from any sleep, but from torpidity, a stifling lethargy that had left me feeling as though I have been wandering through a haze of thick fog. Seized by a sudden impulse, I went out into the night and waltzed beneath the stars, twirling about and laughing from sheer joy while the moon smiled on. My cat followed to watch, attentively sitting on a rock, until I scooped him up and danced with him, humming the Blue Danube while he purred along.

It was something I would have done before I was "grown up," and I've decided now that I never shall. I will always find the time to dance beneath the stars; I will rake a pile of leaves and jump into them; I will make snow angels; I will bathe my face in May Dew every spring. I will believe in the beauty of life.

I will believe in the beauty of life.

A friend of mine posted this on her journal the other day, and it's so amusing and witty that I just had to repost it here. She had all the good quotes excerpted, so, with her permission I'm just copying her entire post:

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It's excerpts from "The Old Librarian Almanack," a satirical book on how to run a library, written in 1909.
Some of my favorite quotes:

On whom one should allow to enter a library:

Be suspicious of Women. They are given to the Reading of frivolous Romances, and at all events, their presence in a Library adds little to (if it does not, indeed, detract from) that aspect of gravity, Seriousness and Learning which is its greatest Glory. You will make no error in excluding them altogether, even though by that Act it befall that you should prohibit from entering some one of those Excellent Females who are distinguished by their Wit and Learning. There is little Chance that You or I, Sir, will ever see such an One.

On the thievery of library books:

"And what Condemnation shall befit the accurst Wretch (for he cannot justly claim the title of Man) who pilfers and purloins for his own selfish ends such a precious article as a Book? I am reminded of the Warning display'd in the Library of the Popish Monastery of San Pedro at Barcelona.

"The Warning reads thus: 'For him that stealeth a Book from this Library, let it change to a Serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with Palsy, and all his Members blasted. Let him languish in Pain, crying aloud for Mercy and let there be no surcease to his Agony till he sink to Dissolution. Let Book-worms gnaw his Entrails in token of the Worm that dieth not, and when at last he goeth to his final Punishment let the Flames of Hell consume him for ever and aye.'"

On the day-to-day library operations.

Keep your books behind stout Gratings, and in no wise let any Persons come at them to take them from the Shelf except yourself.

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When I decided to cut back on adding new friends to my main journal, I felt perfectly terrible - just think of all the people who would miss out on my scintillating company! *horror* And so bwaretheparasol was born. I bid you welcome, dear visitor. Pray be seated, and stay a while. (I have cookies!)

(You must be informed, in case you have not yet realized, that the above paragraph was written with tongue very much in cheek, and a mischevous glint in my eye. I am under no illusions. I know quite well just how scintillating my company is--hardly worth mentioning, compared to some. But the welcome is genuine, just the same.)