sobbing because books

theatlantic.com
Torching the Modern-Day Library of Alexandria
“Somewhere at Google there is a database containing 25 million books and nobody is allowed to read them.”
By James Somers

You were going to get one-click access to the full text of nearly every book that’s ever been published. Books still in print you’d have to pay for, but everything else—a collection slated to grow larger than the holdings at the Library of Congress, Harvard, the University of Michigan, at any of the great national libraries of Europe—would have been available for free at terminals that were going to be placed in every local library that wanted one.

At the terminal you were going to be able to search tens of millions of books and read every page of any book you found. You’d be able to highlight passages and make annotations and share them; for the first time, you’d be able to pinpoint an idea somewhere inside the vastness of the printed record, and send somebody straight to it with a link. Books would become as instantly available, searchable, copy-pasteable—as alive in the digital world—as web pages.

It was to be the realization of a long-held dream. “The universal library has been talked about for millennia,” Richard Ovenden, the head of Oxford’s Bodleian Libraries, has said. “It was possible to think in the Renaissance that you might be able to amass the whole of published knowledge in a single room or a single institution.” In the spring of 2011, it seemed we’d amassed it in a terminal small enough to fit on a desk.

“This is a watershed event and can serve as a catalyst for the reinvention of education, research, and intellectual life,” one eager observer wrote at the time.

On March 22 of that year, however, the legal agreement that would have unlocked a century’s worth of books and peppered the country with access terminals to a universal library was rejected under Rule 23(e)(2) of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure by the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York.

“Why would that ruin anything”

THAT HURT MY FUCKING FEELINGS. HIS FACE. CLACE. Then seeing him cry to Alec. I can’t stop ducking crying. Jace doesn’t deserve this. They fought for each other even before they knew and I can’t deal with this

BUT SEBAAAAASTIAAAAAAANN!!!! He’s not quite what i imagined. But damn ok.


Spoilers from the books btw
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and I just started crying because I thought of Jocelyn not being there when she finally sees johnathan as who he should be without the demon blood. And I just want to cry because i sobbed in the book because at least they got that. They got to see him as him. I just want to die. My babies don’t deserve all this

a papyrus thought

he likes sudokus, and keeps a pocket book of them in his room. He also uses it as a diary, and writes about his day and feelings in what little space there is available once he finishes a puzzle. There’s a small box hidden in his closet filled with sudoku diaries he’s kept ever since he was a kid, and only stores one there once he’s completed every puzzle in it.

“I’m in love with you,” he said quietly.
“Augustus,” I said.
“I am,” he said. He was staring at me, and I could see the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”
“Augustus,” I said again, not knowing what else to say. It felt like everything was rising up in me, like I was drowning in this weirdly painful joy, but I couldn’t say it back. I couldn’t say anything back. I just looked at him and let him look at me until he nodded, lips pursed, and turned away, placing the side of his head against the window.
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