People, I thought, wanted security. They couldn't bear the idea of death being a big black nothing, couldn't bear the thought of their loved ones not existing, and couldn't even imagine themselves not...
So why don't you go home for vacations?' I asked her.I'm just scared of ghosts, Pudge. And home is full of them.
I'm just reveling in the glory of not having to hear the neediness and impotence of my own voice.
But it is the nature of stars to cross, and never was Shakespeare more wrong than when he has Cassius note, ‘The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars / But in ourselves.
The sky is like a monochromatic contemporay painting, drawing me in its illusion of depth, pulling me up.
It felt like everything was rising up in me, like I was drowning in this weirdly painful joy, but I couldn't say it back. I just looked at him and let him look at me until he nodded, lips pursed and t...
What about the rest of your life?She shrugged. What about it?Aren't you worried about, like, forever?Forever is composed of nows, she says.
Oh God, Alaska, I love you. I love you, and the Colonel whispered, I'm so sorry, Pudge. I know you did, and I said, No. Not past tense. She wasn't even a person anymore, just flesh rotting, but I love...
The Z’s will kill us all, and then the Z’s will die out and in sixtyyears there will be no one to remember our silly war, Caroline’swasted ammunition, my year of zombic survivalism, Rene DesCartes’smu...
Well, while you were in the bathroom, I sat down at this picnic table here in Bumblefug, Kentucky, and noticed that someone had carved that GOD HATES FAG, which, aside from being a grammatical nightma...
Dumpers may not always be the heartbreakers, and the Dumpees may not always be the heartbroken. But everyone has a tendency.
They love their hair because they're not smart enough to love something more interesting.
Sería un honor tener el corazón roto por ti, Hazel Grace.
If we'd put them in a vase in the living room, they would have been everyone's flowers. I wanted them to be my flowers.
We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken
That's always seemed so ridiculous to me, that people want to be around someone because they're pretty. It's like picking your breakfeast cereals based on color instead of taste.
Our fearlessness shall be our secret weapon.
We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are.
He’s not that smart.She’s right, Augustus says. It’s just that most really good-looking people are stupid, so I exceed expectations.Right, it’s primarily his hotness.It can be sort of blinding, he sai...
How can you read and talk at the same time? I asked.Well, I usually can’t, but neither the book nor the conversation is particularly intellectually challenging.
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