That moment when you have nearly finished a book and hesitate to read another chapter, fearing it might be the last. 

Even worse: You’ve come to the last book of a deceased author and know that after that final page, there will never be any more of this world, in this style. You may go back and read it anew, but the feeling of discovery will never be the same.

I am still mourning for Gormenghast.

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