Reblogged from p-muk :
"
Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book.
And then there are books which you can’t tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like betrayal.
It wasn’t even that the book was so good or anything; it was just that the author seemed to understand me in weird and impossible ways. It was my book, in the way that my body was my body, and my thoughts were my thoughts.
"(Source: katelizabeth)
Stars, John Green
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