The 9 books that make us cry every time

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The first – and so far only – book to make me cry was…Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf? It’s very ugly? I was a freshman in college and pass by there, as people in college so often are, and the very last moments of this story (every last line!) formed a lump in my throat that almost made me unable to breathe. “It’s Clarissa,” he said. Because she was there. Always be my heart (and my tears). —Marley Marius, Features Editor

lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

I’m not a shouter, but lolita grips me every time – especially the end of this anguished, ravishing, wonderfully flowery and morally tragic novel. lolita it is many things: a provocation; a portrait of helplessness, venality, criminality and, yes, undeniable, obliterating love. And the tide of love at the end of the book, when Humbert Humbert has lost Lolita but still desires her and tries to convince her (pregnant, married, 17) to run away with him once again, is overwhelming. “Lolita…I have to say it.” Life is short. From here to this old car that you know so well, there are twenty, twenty-five steps. It’s a very short walk. Do these twenty-five steps. Now. At present. Come as you Are. And we will live happily ever after. It’s his answer that gives me chills. Four lugubrious, generous, absolute words. “No,” she said. “No, honey, no.” —Taylor Antrim, Global Network Manager and Associate US Editor

Tim: Avicii’s official biography by Måns Mosesson and I love to hate fashion by Loic Prigent

As tragedy and comedy masks that represent theater remind us, there are different kinds of tears. Do not attempt the heartbreaking reading that is Tim: Avicii’s official biography by Måns Mosesson without tissue box. The pages were wet when I closed the book. Weeks later, I watered the pages of Loïc Prigent’s wicked collection of quotes collected from fashion shows –I love to hate fashion– which is funny LOL and a reminder of the importance of keeping things in perspective. —Laird Borrelli-Persson, Archives Editor

The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion

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