Soup tastes better when you are eating it out of your most beloved bowl. Coffee or tea taste better when you are drinking them from your most cherished mug. A book is more captivating when you’re reading it in your preferred chair. Denying these facts is akin to denying science itself.

Call me old-fashioned, but I much prefer doing my research amidst the shimmering glow of lanterns in an old-fashioned library in Prague during a thunderstorm, so I therefore must politely decline your suggestion to “just Google it.”

All I want is a seaside cottage, a captivating novel, a comfortable reading chair, the distant rumble of thunder, a pot of tea, a crackling fire, an emotional support owl, and a plate of freshly-baked scones.

Okay but here me out: A nighttime library in which the only lighting comes from lanterns, an emotional support library ghost leads you to the books you are looking to find, and midnight croissants are served during every full moon.

At the moment, I’m regrettably not reading Edgar Allan Poe whilst having cappuccinos and croissants in a dimly-lit quaint café on a cobblestone street in Prague during a snowstorm, so no, I’m afraid your email did not “find me well.”

The world may be quite turbulent at the moment, but I think we can all take at least some solace in the fact that libraries, cafés, bookstores, bakeries, museums, and Oxford commas exist.

Surround yourself with the kind of people who support their local library.

I find it difficult to trust anyone who doesn’t consider The Princess Bride to be one of the greatest films of all-time.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but a day spent reading Agatha Christie in a Scottish Highlands Cottage in front of a crackling fireplace whilst indulging in a plate of emotional support scones will indeed fix you. Anyone who tells you otherwise is not worthy of your friendship.

I work hard because I have two mouths to feed: These are the mouths.

If you don’t want to read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein together by candlelight whilst sharing dark chocolate and a vintage bottle of Château Margaux in an abandoned castle on the Irish coast during a full moon, then please don’t tell me you’re “down for a good time.”

At the end of the day, don’t we all just want a bookshelf with a rolling ladder?

“Well, that was awkward." - Me, after 93% of my social interactions.

Just took a relationship test, and apparently my type is a quaint independent bookstore on a cobblestone side street in Edinburgh during a pouring rain.

After much introspection, I’ve come to realize that my purpose in life is to convert as many people as possible to a life of books, cats, scones, and Oxford commas.

Okay but hear me out: An independent bookstore that doubles as a bakery, triples as a café, and quadruples as a pet rescue.

In a world full of chaos, I think we can all at least take some solace in the fact that Dolly Parton exists.

Remember, you're under no obligation to justify yourself to anyone if you choose to spend the entire weekend reading books, drinking multiple kettles of tea, and indulging in a scandalous amount of croissants.

Sometimes, happiness is found in the form of emotional support Christmas truffles.

Be the reason your local independent bookstore stays in business.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but your desire to inhale the pages of every book you pick up is something you never need to apologize for. Anyone who tells you otherwise doesn’t belong in your circle of friends.

I’m contemplating a side job where I basically show up on people’s doorstep with hot cocoa in hand, invite myself in, and decorate their place for Christmas.

Normalize having a book on your bookshelf that, when pulled, opens the door to a secret room.

Therapist: So what brings you in today? Me: I’ve never truly gotten over the loss of Alan Rickman, Carrie Fisher, David Bowie, Steve Irwin, and George Michael. Therapist: Oh dear. Let me put on the kettle.

Don’t allow anyone to tell you that being a library ghost in the afterlife “doesn’t classify” as an appropriate long-term goal.

All I want is a humble castle on the Irish coast, a crackling fire, a vintage mystery novel, an emotional support raven, a raging thunderstorm, a few purring cats, endless cups of tea, and a scandalous amount of freshly-baked pastries.

Sometimes, it’s important to wear your Christmas shirt with your Christmas toboggan whilst sipping on some Christmasy coffee on a cool November day in front of an outdoor fire.

Someone just informed me that they find the Oxford comma to be “overrated and unnecessary." I find such comments to be discourteous, disrespectful, and unwarranted.

At the end of the day, don’t we all just want to read books in a Scottish Highlands cottage during a pouring rain whilst enjoying a plate of emotional support scones?

The world may be quite turbulent at the moment, but we can all take at least some solace in the fact that bookstores exist.

I’m regrettably not reading Bram Stoker’s Dracula by lantern light in a lighthouse on the Irish coast during a full moon, so no, I’m afraid your email did not “find me well.”

I don't trust anyone who doesn't consult their pets when making important life decisions.

Someone just told me it’s “too early” to be watching Christmas films. It’s always tragic when a friendship has run its course.

At the end of the day, don’t we all just want to inhale the intoxicating aroma of vintage books in a quaint bookstore on a cobblestone side street in Edinburgh during a pouring rain?

Surround yourself with the kind of people who appreciate, defend, and respect the Oxford comma.

Okay but hear me out: An abandoned lighthouse that’s converted into an independent bookstore.

Just a friendly reminder that your desire to open a quaint bookstore in Edinburgh that doubles as a café and triples as a pet rescue is valid. Don’t allow anyone to disrespect you by telling you otherwise.

This year for Halloween, I’m going to go dressed as someone who’s tired and simply wants some precedented times.

Let's all strive to be a Zelensky in a world of Putins.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but yes, a bookshelf with a rolling ladder *will* fix you.

All I want is a humble forest cottage, a vintage copy of Lord of the Rings, the sound of a pouring rain, a crackling fireplace, a kettle on the stove, an emotional support owl, and a basket of freshly-baked pastries.

Someone just told me that garlic is an “overrated seasoning” and long story short it’s always painful when a friendship ends.

Don’t allow anyone to tell you that reading Bram Stoker’s Dracula in a dimly-lit café on a cobblestone side street in Prague during a pouring rain whilst enjoying cappuccinos and croissants “doesn’t classify” as self-care,

If we can’t read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein together in front of a crackling fire whilst enjoying a vintage bottle of Château Lafite-Rothschild in an ominous Victorian mansion during a full moon on a cool October night with the sound of wolves in the distance, then aren't we both wasting our time?

Her: Talk dirty to me Me: *whispers* Let's spend a rainy day together exploring an independent bookstore

Remember, if someone has the unmitigated gall to claim that spending the entire weekend reading Agatha Christie, drinking multiple cups of tea, and consuming a copious amount of pastries “doesn’t sound exciting", then your well-being is simply not important to them.

Okay but hear me out: A nighttime bookstore in which the only lighting comes from lanterns, tea is served to all who enter, there is an emotional support owl in each section, and a buy one / get one free sale occurs during every full moon.

You are free to question the science behind my research, but I stand by my claim that coffee and tea taste at least 63% better when you're drinking them from your most cherished mug.