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Even with everything broken and decided inside her she couldn't quite allow herself to disappear for good.
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
Even
Disappear
Good
Allow
Decided
Couldn
Broken
Inside
Quite
Everything
More quotes by John Green
Augustus Waters died eight days after his prefuneral, at Memorial, in the ICU, when the cancer, which was made of him, finally stopped his heart, which was also made of him.
John Green
Jesus, I'm not going to be one of those people who sits around talking about what they're going to do. I'm just going to do it.
John Green
Colin emphatically pushed the book cover shut when he finished reading. Did you like it? His dad asked. Yup, Colin said. He liked all books, because he liked the mere act of reading, the magic of turning scratches on a page into words inside his head.
John Green
It looked like an old painting, but real - everything achingly idyllic in the morning light - and I thought about how wonderfully strange it would be to live in a place where almost everything had been built by the dead.
John Green
Her hair is ridiculous, I said. I know. That was the only thing I said about her that was true. When you say nasty things about people, you should never say the true ones, because you can't really fully and honestly take those back, you know? I mean, there are highlights. And there are streaks. And then there are skunk stripes.
John Green
For a moment, she was quiet. Then she grabbed my hand, whispered, “Run run run run run,” and took off, pulling me behind her.
John Green
Augustus Waters, I said, looking up at him, thinking that you cannot kiss anyone in the Anne Frank House, and then thinking that Anne Frank, after all, kissed someone in the Anne Frank House, and that she would probably like nothing more than for her home to have become a place where the young and irreparably broken sink into love.
John Green
still, what could i say? that i didn't just feel depressed - instead, it was like the depression was the core of me, of every part of me, from my mind to my bones? that if he got blue, i got black? that i hated those pills so much, because i knew how much i relied on them to live?
John Green
Even then, it hurt. The pain was always there, pulling me inside of myself, demanding to be felt. It always felt like I was waking up from the pain when something in the world outside of me suddenly required my comment or attention.
John Green
Your responsibility is not to the people you're making the gift for, but the gift itself.
John Green
And the moral of the story is that you don't remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened. And the second moral of the story, if a story can have multiple morals, is that Dumpers are not inherently worse than Dumpees - breaking up isn't something that gets done to you it's something that happens with you.
John Green
I think that most of us [writers] would rather have an audience than countless riches. If we wanted to be rich, we'd be doing smething else.
John Green
There's some people in this world who you can just love and love and love no matter what.
John Green
I thought of the one thing about home that I missed, my dad's study with its built-in, floor-to-ceiling shelves sagging with thick biographies and the black leather chair that kept me just uncomfortable enough to keep from feeling sleepy as I read.
John Green
I kind of conned you into believing you were falling in love with a healthy person.
John Green
I always had this secret suspicion that I was special.
John Green
How do you just stop being terrified of getting left behind and ending up by yourself forever and not meaning anything to the world?
John Green
Headline? he asked. 'Swing Set Needs Home,' I said. 'Desperately Lonely Swing Set Needs Loving Home,' he said. 'Lonely, Vaguely Pedophilic Swing Set Seeks the Butts of Children,' I said.
John Green
The true ninja doesn't make a splash at all.
John Green
Nostalgia is inevitably a yearning for a past that never existed and when I'm writing, there are no bees to sting me out of my sentimentality. For me at least, fiction is the only way I can even begin to twist my lying memories into something true.
John Green
