It was its own thrill.
I didn’t ignore them, I read them, even if only silently,
with a deep sense of feeling:

both the feeling of being replete,
a feeling of satisfaction,
and the feeling of loss,
the sadness of having finished the book.

它拥有自己的震撼。
我没法去忽视它们，我得去读它们，
即使只是默默地读，也有一种深深的感觉：

既有充实的感觉，
一种满足的感觉，
也有失落的感觉，
一种读完一本书后的悲伤。