Have you ever read a book that was so wonderful, you mourned its ending? A book whose characters are so captivating that you feel like your friends have moved away when you close it for the last time? I frequently feel this way about books I love, but this quotation made me think about it in a new way.
It made me think, are they really gone? Do those amazing characters completely disappear from your thoughts? I find that often the best books stay with me long after I've finished them. I mull over a favorite scene in my head when I'm taking a walk or waiting for my waffle to pop out of the toaster. Interactions with people I encounter in real life remind me of something a character might do or say. Important themes and lessons from a book sometimes pop into my head at opportune times.
Do good books ever stay with you? Do you think that's what Cumming meant? What books were you sad to finish?