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Imagining isn't perfect. You can't get all the way inside someone else...But imagining being someone else, or the world being something else, is the only way in. It is the machine that kills fascists.

John Green

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John Green
Age: 47
Born: 1977
Born: August 24
Author
Businessperson
Critic
Editor
Film Producer
Journalist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Podcaster
Singer
Indianapolis
Indiana
John Michael Green
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Fascists
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Imagining
Way
Kills
World
Machine
Machines
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Perfect

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You and me will read a book and find three interesting things that we remember. But Colin finds everything intriguing. He reads a book about presidents and he remembers more of it because everything he reads clicks in his head as fugging interesting.
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It's so easy to get stuck. You just get caught in being something, being special or cool or whatever, to the point where you don't even know why you need it you just think you do.
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Facts, even false ones, cannot be copyrighted.
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The beautiful thing about driving was that it stole just enough of his attention - car parked on the side, maybe a cop, slow to speed limit, time to pass this sixteen-wheeler, turn signal, check rearview, crane neck to check blind spot and yes, okay, left lane.
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How are the eyes?' 'Oh, excellent,' he said. 'I mean, they're not in my head is the only problem.' 'Awesome, yeah,' Gus said. 'Not to one-up you or anything, but my body is made out of cancer.' 'So I heard,' Issac said, trying not to let it get to him. He fumbled toward Gus's hand and found only his thigh. 'I'm taken,' Gus said.
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It's embarrassing that we all just walk through life blindly accepting that scrambled eggs are fundamentally associated with mornings.
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So she became impulsive, scared by her inaction into perpetual action.
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We are now as I wished we could be then.
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The darkest nights produce the brightest stars.
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For a moment, she was quiet. Then she grabbed my hand, whispered, “Run run run run run,” and took off, pulling me behind her.
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Where do you come up with these zingers, Clint? Do you own some kind of joke factory in Indonesia where you've got eight-year-olds working ninety hours a week to deliver you that kind of top-quality witticism? There are boy bands with more original material.
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The act of leaning in to kiss someone, or asking them, is fraught with the possibility of rejection, so the person least likely to get rejected should do the leaning in or the asking.
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Beware of that monster called 'self-loathing'.
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I didn’t need you, you idiot. I picked you. And then you picked me back.
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Books are seldom useful unless they are also beautiful.
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I shaved this morning for precisely that reason. I was like, 'Well, you never know when someone is going to clamp down on your calf and try to suck out the snake poison.
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This squirrel is inadequately afraid of humans! Squirrel, I am a threat to you! We are enemies! Please get off my bench! Oh, god! Oh, god! Don't touch me—oh, god!
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There's your labyrinth of suffering. We are all going. Find your way out of that maze.
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People are supposed to care. It's good that people mean something to you, that you miss people when they're gone.
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Margo's beauty was a kind of sealed vessel of perfection--uncracked and uncrackable.
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