I wasn't disappointed. My expectations had been met.
I want more numbers that I'm likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I can not tell you thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade...
I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity
And yet still I worried. I like being a person. I wanted to keep at it. Worry is yet another side effect of dying.
The vast majority of us imagine ourselves as like literature people or math people. But the truth is that the massive processor known as the human brain is neither a literature organ or a math organ....
Support Group featured a rotating cast of characters in various states of tumor-driven unwellness. Why did the cast rotate? A side effect of dying.
I want to leave a mark.But Van Houten: The marks humans leave are too often scars.
I spy with my little eye a great story.
And now she was colder by the hour, more dead with every breath I took. I thought: That is the fear: I have lost something important, and I cannot find it, and I need it. It is fear like if someone lo...
For me, at least, fiction is the only way i can even begin to twist my lying memories into something true.
The world," he said, "is not a wish-granting factory," and then he broke down, just for one moment, his sob roaring impotent like a clap of thunder unaccompanied by lightning, the terrible ferocity th...
You're both the fire and the water that extinguishes it. You're the narrator, the protagonist, and the sidekick. You're the storyteller and the story told. You are somebody's something, but you are al...
You had been a paper boy to me all these years - two dimensions as a character on the page and two different, but still flat, dimensions as a person. But that night you turned out to be real.
Y'all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.
That tastes like hope feels.
Please stop, I said. You're upsetting the black Santas.
It is so hard to leave—until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world.
I don't know how I look, but I know how I feel: Young. Goofy. Infinite.
Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you.
Apparently, the world is not a wish-granting factory.