book clasp

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Directorivm Benedictinvm Perpetvvm: siue Ordo Celebrandi Divina Officia, Divrna, Noctvrna, Missas, Alia : Secundum Ritus Breuiarij Benedictini a Pavlo Qvinto Pont. Max. approbati, & Missalis Romani: Eiusdem Breuiarij Editionibus Venetae, Romanae, & alijs accomodatus
Rorschachii 1621 J Schroterus

contemporary full vellum binding blind tooled over wooden boards

For things are what they are, earth and sky, cloud, furrows, undergrowth, stars; it is things alone which transfigure themselves, in no way are they symbols; they are the world we breathe… 

— Philippe Jaccottet, Landscapes for Absent Figures

We must learn from things; we have everything to learn from them. How to let things make themselves known by themselves, before any translation… 

— Hélène Cixous, Coming to Writing and Other Essays

Inconspicuously compliant is the thing: the jug and the bench, the footbridge and the plow. But tree and pond, too, brook and hill, are things, each in its own way. Things, each thinging from time to time in its own way, are heron and roe, deer, horse and bull. Things, each thinging and each staying in its own way, are mirror and clasp, book and picture, crown and cross.

— Martin Heidegger, “The Thing” 

anonymous asked:

There is a book clasped between tiny hands, its cover bright familiar but the title, "Le Chat Au Chapeau", gave away its source. The small girl - dark haired with olive skin & dark eyes, from an unknown parentage, looked up at the parent she did know. One of them that is. "Mama -- will you read to me? Maman reads this when you are at work & I thought," said with the softest of French accents, "since she is working & you are here -- you would? S'il vous plaît?"

“Oh, but of course, little one.” Minerva soothes affectionately. Hands coming down to lift up the precious child. Kissing her cheek several times as she holds her close. “You’re so used to having maman here at night with you on Mondays, aren’t you?” She smiles, beginning to carry her towards the master bedroom. Her and Val’s bed the best place for book reading and snuggles. “I’m not as good at story telling as maman is, but you know I’ll try my best. Anything for my petite fille.”

Hair a mess, strands sticking up, friction claiming them, face bare of makeup and shirt barely buttoned up to cover her bra, she was officially a mess. Her good hand clasped a book, pieces of metal all around her and her eyesbrows furrowed as she placed it down, tapping her iPad repeatedly with a huff, “No. That’s…”

A Grossly Cute Domestic Life

words: 6428

Finished the game a little more than a week ago and I’m in love, specifically with these two. Hope you guys enjoy it!

ao3

  • Yes, she scrawls her name in the margins of her notes!
  • She names programming variables after her!
  • She even writes stories of them together…
  • Sharing a domestic life!

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