What is the point of being alive if you don’t at least try to do something remarkable?
My thoughts are stars I can’t fathom into constellations.
As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.
Margo always loved mysteries. And in everything that came afterward, I could never stop thinking that maybe she loved mysteries so much that she became one.
It seemed like forever ago, like we’ve had this brief but still infinite forever. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.
You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you.
Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you.
At some point, you just pull off the Band-Aid, and it hurts, but then it’s over and you’re relieved.
What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.
It is so hard to leave—until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world.