“Little sparks cause fires, too.”

“This is how I lived back then– through books. I locked myself into their stories, dreamt of their characters at night, pretended to be them. They were my armour against the hard edges of reality. I carried them with me wherever I went, like a talisman in my pocket, thinking of them as almost more real than the people around me, who spoke and lived in denial, destined, I thought, to never do anything worth recounting.”

“Because you were right when you said that people can’t always give us what we want from them; that you can’t ask them to love you the way you want. No one can be blamed for that. And the odds had been stacked against us from the start: we had no manual, no one to show us the way.”


Tears? Yes. This book is the definition of my favourite book genre - beautifully-heartbreaking-sad books. Even though the plot is absolutely incredible, for me the winner is the writing. This type of writing finds a way to touch our souls in places that were never touched.