I shoud rite down what I think and remembir and evrey thing.

I just finished Flowers for Algernon.  It is, I think, the most emotionally crushing book I've ever read.  I've never cried this hard at the end of a book.  The closest to this was at the end of A Prayer for Owen Meany.  My God, I can't even think about this book without getting verklempt.  I think, for me, the hardest part, is realizing he'd hit these magnificent transcendent highs, and then to be denied even the memory of them, left only with a hint, a vague whisper.  To meet God, and then forget.  This is a true novel of ultimate loss.