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It is not just books I love. It’s story. It’s drama. It’s the characters. It’s words that speak wonders. It’s the idea that somewhere someone wrote a story that is exactly how I feel or would like to be.

Tagged: Confessions  *  
Posted 11 months ago with 224 notes

When I finish a book, it’s like I’m leaving my new friends behind and I don’t want to go.

Tagged: Confessions  *  
Posted 11 months ago with 725 notes

I read for fun, interest, insight, a good laugh, a cry, in retrospect, in depth, and just because. Books aren’t just words on a page. They inform and help define who I will become. I can learn from the character’s mistakes and understand the world differently from their perspective. I read because I hate how reality binds me to this demanding life. I read to find myself some piece of what I know I can never truly attain.

My relationship with fictional characters is separated into two factions: relating to them or crying over them.

Posted 1 year ago with 349 notes

I can not imagine giving my books permanently.

The problem is not that I do not have enough to read. It’s what do I read next.

If I can talk with a boy about my favorite authors and poems, then he’s basically marriage material.

Posted 1 year ago with 361 notes

I blame the books I have read for the high expectations I have in life and relationships.

Posted 1 year ago with 1,089 notes

I find myself in books.

Well-written books should be thoroughly absorbed. They should be breathed in slowly and appreciated, so take time to read them and let them take you places.

I measure my life out in turned pages.

Posted 1 year ago with 80 notes

My life is made up of the stories I’ve read, made up, heard, skimmed, were taught, listened to, felt, lost, and even the ones I write.

Tagged: Confessions  
Posted 1 year ago with 94 notes

I love book sales. I would love them even more if it didn’t mean a book store was going out of business.

Posted 1 year ago with 46 notes

After I finished reading a book, I feel like the author and I are friends.

I don’t just read an author’s work. I laugh at their stupid jokes. I cry with them when times get tough. I understand their point they wish to make to the world. I gush about their beautifully phrased proses. I sit and listen to their ideas. They become my friend.