We'd failed, maybe, but some mysteries aren't meant to be solved.
Nerd life is just so much better than regular life.
it is the nature of stars to cross
I'm not saying it was your fault. I'm saying it wasn't nice.
The car caught fire. From what I understand it just went up the side of the house.
Patience, grasshopper," I counseled. "You don't want to seem overeager." "Right, that's why I said tomorrow," he said. "I want to see you again tonight. But I'm willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow.
All the characters are made out of words. With reading, I understand that the people aren't real but the fact that they are made out of language and are made out of words is extremely powerful to me. It becomes transformative for me. Different people have different ways of trying to make stories usi
You may choose your song, but know this: Tiny. Cooper. Hates. Over. The. Rainbow.
I feel like crying, so I must be crying, but it's impossible to tell because I'm underwater.
Sometimes I don't get you,' I said. She didn't even glance at me. She just smiled toward the television and said, 'You never get me. That's the whole point.
..there she is, and I am watching her through plexiglass, and she looks like Margo Roth Spiegelman, this girl I have known since I was twoâ€“this girl who was an idea that I loved. And it is only now, when she closes her notebook and places it inside a backpack next to her and then stands up and wal
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.
Not to ask the obvious question, but why Alaska?
This was what I liked most about my friends: just sitting around & telling stories.
Osteosarcoma sometimes takes a limb to check you out. The, if it like you, it takes the rest.
Traveling, I am finding, teaches you a lot of things about yourself. For instance, I never thought myself to be the kind of person who pees into a mostly empty bottle of Bluefin energy drink while driving through South Carolina at seventy-seven miles per hour - but in face I am that kind of person.
I wouldn't have cared if my girlfriend was a Jaguar-driving Cyclops with a beard - I'd have been grateful just to have someone to make out with.
We all want to do something to mitigate the pain of loss or to turn grief into something positive, to find a silver lining in the clouds. But I believe there is real value in just standing there, being still, being sad.
All good American literature is always interested in people who are ambiguously heroic, like Gatsby.
It is worth it to leave behing my minor life for grander maybes -Miles "Pudge
What's that?" "The laundry basket?" "No, next to it." "I don't see anything next to it." "It's my last shred of dignity. It's very small.
I don't see any point in nihilism...just as I suppose the nihilist sees no point in everything else.
My heart is really pounding," I said. "That's how you know you're having fun," Margo said.
Also, I feel that crying is almost--like, aside from deaths of relatives or whatever-- totally avoidable if you follow two very simple rules: 1.Don't care too much. 2. Shut up. Everything unfortunate that has ever happened to me has stemmed from failure to follow one of the rules.
I don't think you can ever fill the empty space with the thing you lost.
Thank you for explaining that my eye cancer isn't going to make me deaf. I feel so fortunate that an intellectual giant like yourself would deign to operate on me.
You'll live forever in our hearts, big man. That particularly galled me, because it implied the immortality of those left behind: You will live forever in my memory, because I will live forever! I AM YOUR GOD NOW, DEAD BOY! I OWN YOU!
You know what I hate? The outdoors. I mean, generally. I don't like outside. I'm an inside person. I'm all about refrigeration and indoor plumbing and Judge Judy.
Augustus: â€œYou probably need some rest.â€ Me: â€œIâ€™m okay.â€ Augustus: â€œOkay.â€ (Pause.) â€œWhat are you thinking about?â€ Me: â€œYou.â€ Augustus: â€œWhat about me?â€ Me: â€œâ€˜I do not know which to prefer, / The beauty of inflections / Or the beauty of innuendos, / The blackbird whistling /
And it was just the three of us - three bodies and two people - the three who knew what had happened and too many layers between all of us too much keeping us from one another.