I loved this book. It lived up to every single expectation I had and exceeded all of them.
I loved it so much I carried it with me everywhere I went for 3 days. Everywhere. Try not to use your imagination.
I loved it so much I got pissy whenever anyone had the nerve to interrupt my reading. That includes the cutest puppy in the world who, it seemed, needed to be let out to do her business and/or chase squirrels every 5 minutes.
I loved it so much I didn’t skim a single paragraph. If you’re wondering how the writer can spend 311 pages on this trail and not bore you for a single sentence, stop wondering.
I loved it so much I’m sending out emails to friends who don’t read this blog (ahem) and insisting they buy this book.
I loved it so much I started thinking, If this book doesn’t win some huge prize — the National Book Award, the Pulitzer — I’ll be shocked.
I loved it so much I thought I’d cry yesterday when I heard that old, sappy song Wildfire from the mid-1970s, the one about the pony that goes missing in a blizzard. There is no explanation for this.
I loved it so much I’m sad it’s over. I have regrets. Could have missed anything?? There it is, its shiny, stark-white cover with its photo of a broken-down boot, resting on the table next to me. Finished.
I feel sorry for whatever book I read next. I’ll be on the rebound.
When was the last time you loved a book this much?