Beauty and the Beast was my favorite Disney movie growing up. Basically because I was Belle. I was certain of it. At least, I should have been. After all, I loved to read… just like Belle. I loved my horse… just like Belle loved her horse. And I reallllllly wanted to run up a hill with my arms wide singing, “I want adventure in the great wiiiide somewhere…!” I gave it a dry run, and I was pretty good at it.

Anyway. What clinched it was when Beast gave Belle the library. Not just a book, mind you. An entire library. I remember Beast flinging open the doors to this library, and I was like, “Whoa.” I totally got it. Beast was for real. He hearted her. And I really wanted a library like that of my own.

Slightly more mature and marginally less childish though I may be these days (debatable), I still love libraries. I like rummaging through aisles of books. I like the feeling of possibility– that I might pull a book that’s able to reel me in and keep me lost within its pages for hours and days. What’s more, I simply like the look of piles and piles of books. And after touring a home a while back with a delicious library (the last picture in the post is actually the very home library I’m talking about), I was reminded that if I ever get my own home one day, at least one wall dedicated to a mass of books would be so, so, so welcome and pleasing to me.

I actually pulled these images some time ago and cannot remember from where. I’ll have to look into it and come back and link them later, I suppose.

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