When our family talks about going to the bookstore we are referring to Danville's 

Ye Olde Bookstore at the Goodwill. 

We are very fond of that store and have spent many hours among the shelves of books. 

Their selection includes newer and older books. I enjoy the smell of old musty books.

I delight in going there on rainy days and spending entirely to much time looking at all the old cookbooks, the classics, the children's books and the Christian section full of books that just a year ago were $20 now they are $1.99 .. Now we are talking. 

One such day I was rummaging through and endless stream of books and I came across a red, hardbound, musty smelling book from the 1960's called The Joy of Words. On the inside cover it describes itself as 

Selections of literature expressing beauty, humor, history, wisdom or inspiration  ...

which are a joy to read again and again. 

I bought it for $1.50, took it home and put it on my already overly crowded book shelf. It was a while before I "saw" it again. Now, off the shelf, I am enjoying it. It's a fun read.

 I peruse it when I just have a short minute for a cup of coffee and a quick break. The stories or writings remind me of my childhood and the kind of stuff I heard when I was little. Back then most literature had a point. 

I like reading a thing that has a point. 

Here is a selection from that book. It's perverse, but that's the fun of it. 

I hope you enjoy it AND you don't readily find yourself identifying with the speaker. 

My Dear Fellow Grumblers: 

Poets, philosophers, and fools, in all ages, have been writing and preaching on the art of being happy, 

without a mighty sight of seals to their minsitry, I guess. 

But, as many can't be satisfied unless miserable in body and mind, 

I am going to show all such persons the several means

 to be used for the attainment of such a desirable end. 

 In the first place, my beloved whiners, in order to attain an end, you must get up a stiff resolution and determination to conquer. 

Yes, my hearers, you must set down your foot, grit your teeth, 

let your resolution be as stiff as boilerplate, 

let your firmness be as unwavering 

as the rocks of Gibraltar. 

Be determined to be miserable, and you shall get your desires.

 Never mind what people tell you about the bounties of 

Providence and the beauties of Nature, 

the balmy breezes of spring, the twittering and warbling of birds,

 - you must sheer off from them like a wealthy upstart from a poor relation. 

Put on a sour, savage, snapping-turtle physiognomy; 

look daggers, and act out your feelings;

 this is the first great commandment with misery: 

Think you are the most forsaken mortal that misery ever held a mortgage on. 

Hate mankind: call 'em liars, cheats, swindlers, villains. 

Look at everything on the wrong side, If it has no dark side, make one, just so as to enjoy yourself looking at it. 

Take it for granted that everybody about is especially interested to torment you.

 Fight everybody and everything. You can't hit amiss.

 The world is all wrong. Everybody is a villain but yourself, and it is your duty to teach mankind manners.

 Go at 'em. You can't fail to be miserable.