I love reading books, escaping into unknown worlds and losing
myself in them. I get to meet new people--sometimes even taking a
fancy to one character more than the rest, wishing more than
anything they were real. But reading in such a way does not
always do me good. I will travel an illusion of the most tragic
and beautiful love story and will love every minute of it, but
what am I to do when the adventure is over, and I have naught
left but my own company and a few hundred printed pages?