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If I could do it all over again, he said, his speech slow and vaguely mangled by his massive lower lip, I'd just let myself be trampled to death by the Satan Pig.

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
Slow
Lips
Mangled
Speech
Trampled
Death
Vaguely
Pigs
Lower
Satan
Massive

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I think forever is an incorrect concept, I answered. He smirked. You're an incorrect concept. I know. That's why I'm being taken out of the rotation.
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We have to live with ambiguity. We have to give ourselves over to it. The question is: How? How are we going to live in a universe where important questions will always go unanswered?
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What's the meaning of life? Other people.
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The dead are visible only in the terrible lidless eye of memory.
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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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I tore open the closet door and began feverishly sorting through the shirts piled on the floor in the vain hope that inside that pile there might be some wondrously perfect shirt down there, a nice and tough but I'm also a surprisingly good listener with a true and abiding passion for cheers and those who lead them.
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Ashes to ashes. Garage sale to garage sale,” I said.
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I don't see any point in nihilism... just as I suppose the nihilist sees no point in everything else.
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The internet is necessarily public. It can be filtered-public or censored-public, but it necessarily has to be open and available.
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For she had embodied the Great Perhaps--she had proved to me that it was worth it to leave behind my minor life for grander maybes, and now she was gone and with her my faith in perhaps.
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You are so busy being YOU that you have no idea how utterly unprecedented you are.
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I fear oblivion. I fear it like the proverbial blind man who's afraid of the dark.
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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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I love you' really is the gateway drug of breaking up.
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After all this time, it seems to me like straight and fast is the only way out- but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it.
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