Memories -- the thrill of making your first clay homunculus, and then the anxiety of examination day, when the teacher handed out the pins and expected a miracle.  From Swarthmore's 1974 yearbook.  See How to Hoodoo Hack a Yearbook.

We trust you never flattered yourself that fairy tales were for you.  They're by fairies, for fairies.  (Granted, you may actually be a fairy.  In which case, never mind.)  From Little Nobody, 1875

“You resist / strangers until a stranger makes the old hungers / brutally wake.” —Frank Bidart, "Like," Half-Light: Collected Poems 1965–2016 

Photo from Swarthmore's 1974 yearbook.

In the 1970s, street artists wore high heels.  From The Martlet, 1972.

From Ye Sundial Booke by T. Geoffrey Henslow, 1914.

"Isn’t that what any artist wants —for art to have legs?" (Doug Hayko).  Photo from the University of Arkansas, Fayetteville's 1963 yearbook.

Wikipedia claims that the fad of phonebooth stuffing was passé by the end of 1959, but here it is in 1989.  WTF, Wikipedia?  From Eastern Kentucky's 1989 yearbook.

They don't write TV shows this way anymore.  Spoken to a severed hand that was stolen from the king of the gypsies: "Released by the guardians of the chains and blessed by the custodians of the twelve days."  The twelve days of Christmas?

The setting mapped on the endpapers is even divided into acres, as in "the Hundred Acre Wood," in this rather blatant "tribute" to Winnie the Pooh, two decades later.  We decoded the young reader's squiggle.  It says, "Christopher Robin did it first."  From Poo and the Baby Bunny Rabbit by Edwin Megargee, 1947.

"Tomorrow may be cancelled."  From The Martlet, 1972.

From The Film Daily, 1942.

"Wake up!"  From Wid's Daily, 1919.

"The fairy stood on the leaf of a lily and every crawfish was silent."  

From Santa Clara's 1967 yearbook.

From Eastern Kentucky's 1961 yearbook.

From Lustige Blätter, 1919.