I recently noticed that I hardly ever cry over the books I read, even though I do read quite a lot. The text never quite gets me in that way, if you catch my drift. And, to be honest, I can't see how or why anyone else would. I've met people who say they do such things, though, and it confuses me. It's a story, you know.

(Although there was that one incident when I decided to read The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents by the marvelous Terry Pratchett and felt a sharp pang in my stomach ...
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