A Reader Doesn't Really See The Characters

I Love To Read Aloud.

Words,words Filled The Night Like The Fragrance Of Invisible Flowers.

Why Did Death Make Life Taste So Much Sweeter? Why Could The Heart Love Only What It Could Also Lose?

Where Did The Love Come From? What Was It Made Of?

Isn't It Odd How Much Fatter A Book Gets When You've Read It Several Times?" Mo Had Said..."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.