I think the pampered highborn like the fantasy of equality. - Esther Friesner

Come on, Noel, you know me. You know how I feel about books. Do you think I'd ever willfully destroy one? Ten? Hundreds? A whole library full?"
"You wouldn't," Noel agreed. "But those friends of yours are straight out of the Dark Ages. Who knows what they'd do?"
"They'd tell you what made the Dark Ages so damn dark was not enough books, that's what they do." Roger stuck out his chin. "They know what they owe to books more than a lot of the sitcom slaves out there. They know you can't solve any problem in thirty minutes, less commercial breaks. They know that the past wasn't perfect but they also know how to look through the histories for past mistakes so they'll recognize them if they come around again. They'll do a lot of things, but they won't hurt books.

He did not know the proper name by which to call preshrunk designer jeans, yet if left to his own lexical devices, he would name them Paradise. Like many another man of faith, he yearned for entry thereto.

Time had passed. It will, given half the chance.