A pause came between them, and it was so full of Akiva that Karou imagined she could smell him.

Was there any fate more bitter than to get what you long for most, when it's too late?

It was brave," countered Issa. "It was rare. It was love, and it was beautiful.

Hey! My body may be small, but my soul is large. It’s why I wear platforms. So I can reach the top of my soul.

And there's no better way to thaw a face, as it turns out, than with another face.

I was going to say the beginning is the good part, when it's all sparks and sparkles, before they are inevitably unmasked as assholes.

I love bookshelves, and stacks of books, spines, typography, and the feel of pages between my fingertips. I love bookmarks, and old bindings, and stars in margins next to beautiful passages. I love exuberant underlinings that recall to me a swoon of language-love from a long-ago reading, something I hoped to remember. I love book plates, and inscriptions in gifts from loved ones, I love author signatures, and I love books sitting around reminding me of them, being present in my life, being. I love books.