'One of the Teeth of Time'

I found this little creature on the tile floor of the basement today. Being we have more books in our house than a small monastery, the Silverfish is not really a welcome guest. But, in reality, we aren't infested with them, and they don't eat much a letter here a letter there. Seeing it I'm reminded of a wonderful quote by the early champion of the microscope, Robert Hooke, and an Old English riddle that I've always enjoyed.

"It is a small white Silver-shining Worm or Moth, which I found much conversant among Books and Papers, and is suppos'd to be that which corrodes and eats holes through the leaves and covers; it appears to the naked eye, a small glittering Pearl-colour'd Moth, which upon the removing of Books and Papers in the Summer, is often observ'd very nimbly to scud, and pack away to some lurking cranney, where it may the better protect itself from any appearing dangers....This Animal probably feeds upon the Paper and covers of Books, and perforates in them several small round holes, finding, perhaps, a convenient nourishment in those hulks of Hemp and Flax, which have pass'd through so many scourings, washings, dressings and dryings, as the parts of old Paper must necessarily have suffer'd; the digestive faculty, it seems, of these little creatures being able yet further to work upon those stubborn parts, and reduce them into another form. And indeed, when I consider what a heap of Saw-dust or chips this little creature (which is one of the teeth of Time) conveys into its intrals, I cannot chuse but remember and admire the excellent contrivance of Nature."
– Robert Hooke, from Micrographia (Observation LII), 1665

And this Old English riddle from the book of Exeter

Riddle 42
Moððe word fræt me þæt þuhte
wrætlicu wyrd þa ic þæt wundor gefrægn
þæt se wyrm forswealg wera gied sumes
þeof In þystro þrymfæstne cwide
⁊ þæs strangan staþol stælgiest ne wæs
wihte þy gleawra þe he þam wordū swealg

A moth ate words. To me it seemed
a remarkable fate, when I learned of the marvel,
that the worm had swallowed the speech of a man,
a thief in the night, a renowned saying
and its place itself. Though he swallowed the word
the thieving stranger was no whit the wiser.
(Alfred John Wyatt, translation)