Found yesterday in a charity shop - there is an amazing one for books not far from where I live:
Poems of Shelley, London, Macmillan and Co. 1880, 1880 Limited edition: only 500 copies were printed. The title page has an engraving of a mansion, framed by trees, by W. Roffe, printed on silk.
The pages are irregularly cut and you can see the work that has gone into the impression of the texts.
I am not someone who rejects technology but I am highly suspicious of it in general and use it succintly and cautiously.
One thing I know I will never take to: electronic books. I just cannot do it. I love books as objects, I love the feel of the paper, I like looking at the cover.
I also love old books, and the feeling you get while flicking through one of those will never be reproduced with an e-book.
This book I found yesterday is a pure object of beauty.
I think therefore I write.
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