I read this wonderful essay yesterday: Typewriter Mania and the Modern Writer | Tor.com. I loved it, one thing is of course the facth that the author writes with passion about old, durable and weel built machines another is the style:
I’m fond of saying that I was raised by brontosaurs—not in the “thunder lizard” sense. In my childhood, the adults around me were gentle, stable, contemplative, and slow-moving. Ours was a house of happy quietness, comfortably dim, paneled in dark wood, festooned with relics of the past.
We humans go through many computers in our lives, but in their lives, typewriters go through many of us. In that way, they’re like violins, like ancestral swords.