Wow- just looking at these makes me feel like a teenager again... Oh, the books that defined my youth! Ray Bradbury didn't write enough. Neither did Hermann Hesse or Camus. I loved Dostoevsky when I was young, but not as an adult... Dickens I have loved in spurts. Gatsby drew me in later. Hemingway, bleh. Edna St. Vincent Millay knew just how I felt! And for awhile no one existed but Shelley.