They
are all common gestures: pulling the glasses out of a case, cleaning them with
a tissue or the hem of the blouse or the tip of the tie, perching them on the
nose and steadying them behind the ears before peering at the now lucid page
held in front of us. Then pushing them up or sliding them down the glistening
bridge of the nose in order to bring the letters into focus and, after a while,
lifting them off and rubbing the skin between the eyebrows, screwing the
eyelids shut to keep out the siren text. And the final act: taking them off,
folding them and inserting them between the pages of the book to mark the place
where we left off reading for the night.
A History of Reading by Alberto Manguel, London, Penguin, 2014, p.291
