"I am walking youward."  Note also the "Please" sign amongst the flowers.  From Mary Washington's 1972 yearbook.

It's hardly Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.  "Bogle and Eckliff should be interchanged."  From Michigan's 1919 yearbook.

Here's the word "apricklededee" in the wild.  From "The Great Hug" by Donald Barthelme, in Folio, Jan, 1976.

Having a good sense of rhythm is not required for having "rhtyum."  From Belmont Abbey's 1987 yearbook.

To this day, the word "innirtible" is a Googlewhack.  Thinking oneself more innirtible than anyone else, the article suggests, is a trait shared by all college men. From The Current Sauce, 1956.

A word of caution: the Grim Reaper appears at the end of this:

"Leaves have their time to fall, and flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, and stars to set; but all, thou has all seasons for thine own, O Death." 

From Manual and Diagrams to Accompany Metcalf's Grammars, 1901.

Reblog if you, too, are still resisting abstractionism.  From Dark Shadows episode 133.

Wait -- I know this.  Mustachioed, mustard, and mustiness.  Oh yeah, must-read, must-see, and must-have.  That's six.  This book says there are 6,000 must words.  I hate to question that number, since folks initially doubted that I'd collected 1,000 one-letter words for One-Letter Words: A Dictionary. 

You've heard that "Grease is the word" (the musical Grease), but the word was originally "Greeks," as we see in Montana State's 1938 yearbook.

"Where was I?"  "Higgledy-piggledly."  "Oh yes!"  From Christmas Every Day by William Dean Howells, 1892.

How much is one "blub" of molasses?  A fun fact from Northern Junket vol. 6, no. 8, by Ralph Page, 1959.

It's not "silhouettes" but "silly-ettes."  From Mary Washington's 1916 yearbook.

Oddly, there's but a single "whatchamacallit" in the first 800 episodes of Dark Shadows.

Did you already know that there are hundreds and hundreds of all-vowel words?  For very surprising examples of usage from literature, see the book we were honored to put together: Webster's Dictionary of Improbable Words: All-Consonant and All-Vowel Words.

From Lasell's 1961 yearbook. 

The word unquestionably is gretagarbismo.  From Cine-Mundial, 1942.

You've heard that "Being here is better than reading about being here" (well, perhaps you haven't heard that, as there's only a single Google result for the phrase).  Be that as it may, the very first page of Tibor Fischer's Voyage to the End of the Room starts here.

The toast, "Bile the universe" is a Googlewhack.  From Coraddi, 1976.  For other weird toasts, see Of Drinking in Remembrance of the Dead.

If we were to quibble about Drunk: The Definitive Drinker's Dictionary ("O ascetic, go, and don’t quibble with those who drink the dregs," Hafez said), it would be over the fact that the book is in fact a glossary and not a dictionary, though author Paul Dickson, as a consulting editor for Merriam-Webster, would already know that.  Having compiled glossaries ourselves, we get the predicament: if every entry has the same definition (in this case, "drunk"), the entries might as well stand unadorned.  The illustrations by Brian Rea make the impressive glossary even more charming.  Can you guess the entry for this illustration?

Surprisingly, this page from a religious college's yearbook revises the Bible, changing "through a glass, darkly" (1 Corinthians 13) to "brightly," a revision used by anti-religionists.  (There's even a book with this revision as its title: Through a Glass Brightly: Using Science to See Our Species as We Really Are.)  Unable to control themselves, the yearbook editors ran with the revisionism and brought coffee into it: "Through a glass warmly."  From Mount Olive's 1963 yearbook.

"Bring lilies to altar and shrine."  From Manual and Diagrams to Accompany Metcalf's Grammars, 1901.