[...] And if someone thought that their life was completely wasted and meaningless and that they themselves were just one among millions, someone who didn't matter at all and who could be replaced as quickly as a broken pot---and they went and told little Momo all this, then, even as they were talking, it would become mysteriously clear to them that they were completely mistaken, that they, just as they were, existed only once among all people, and that they were therefore important to the world in their own special way.

This book is the definition of unconditional love. In a way, it is like Momo: offering a place to rest and reflect and feel joy; forgetting the time (because it's the one thing she has plenty of). I'm sure my feelings towards this story stem from lots of nostalgia but the tears are fresh and feel so relieving