“there Are, On This Planet Alone, Something Like Two Million Naturally Occurring Sweet Things, Some

Ok I know this isn't what I usually reblog but yeah I'm still bitter

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oh, to be a d.a scientist

faded labcoats, stained with ink & clumsy experiments

cursive reports, scribbled notes

awkward meetings with peers; shuffling hands & bitten lips, quietly explaining research to interested friends

skeletons in glass domes & diagram posters pinned to walls

classical music filling the silence as dull reports are written out; heavy silence as unexpected results are obsessed over, desperate for an explanation

cold coffee in chipped mugs

flickering candles, dark brown walls, vintage desk with ink splotches & small chips

tweed jackets, faux leather briefcases, smart blouses for analysing experiment results & meetings

messy hair, focused eyes & rolled-up sleeves during experiments & field work

thrilled yells of excitement as everything starts falling into place, muffled groans when contradictory data appears

The chronicle of the monk Herbert of Reichenau for the year 1021 ends “My brother Werner was born on November 1.“ 

1021 was not an uneventful year. The emperor began a campaign into Italy. Illustrious abbots died. There was an earthquake. But Herbert took the time to note, at the end of the year, that his brother was born. 

Of such acts of tenderness is history made. 

Mount Rainier, Washington by Max Feingold

The math cafe is my favourite place to work because it has the best views and biggest blackboards

A little in love with this video taken from my dorm window 🌩️

Oh no, we just couldn’t have that now, could we?