are hot. They have knowledge and power over their domain. When you
enter a library, you enter as a supplicant. It is the librarian
that must strip you bare of your layers of obfuscation and find
you what you really came for.
is a silent pursuit. When you sit down next to a commuter with his
nose buryed in a book, you don't know if he's reading some dry text
about mergers or something wicked. Perhaps slightly flushed cheeks
will betray him. Perhaps you will never know.
is no coincidence how many librarians are portrayed as having a
passionate interior, hidden by a cool layer of reserve. Aren't books
like that? On the shelf, their calm covers belie the intense experience
of reading one. Reading inflames the soul. Now, what sort of person
would be the keeper of such books?