[Forgive me for any anachronisms/inaccuracies? I know next to nothing about Egypt in any year.]
I knew this Library well. I taught myself to read here, under the sharp, unimpressed glares of a large number of not terribly bright minds. I knew its poetry and its design as intimately as any dear friend. It was my still center and my sole refuge in all Alexandria.
I breathed easier here. I still would, forever and ever after, but for the fire and the smoke and the ash. I hold books and scrolls as close to my heart as my jealous skin allows. The Roman fire might take the library, but not all of it, and not me.
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I knew this Library well. I taught myself to read here, under the sharp, unimpressed glares of a large number of not terribly bright minds. I knew its poetry and its design as intimately as any dear friend. It was my still center and my sole refuge in all Alexandria.
I breathed easier here. I still would, forever and ever after, but for the fire and the smoke and the ash. I hold books and scrolls as close to my heart as my jealous skin allows. The Roman fire might take the library, but not all of it, and not me.
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