Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.
—Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird (via rauchwolken)
Isn’t it odd how much fatter a book gets when you’ve read it several times? As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells…and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there, too, a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower…both strange and familiar.
تمنيتك وقلت ف خاطري ليته تمناني
I wished for you and secretly wished you’d wish me too ..