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I needed, I decided, to really know her, because I needed more to remember. Before I could begin the shameful process of forgetting the how and the why of her living and dying, I needed to learn it: How. Why. When. Where. What.

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
Process
Forgetting
Remember
Begin
Really
Decided
Dying
Needed
Forget
Learn
Living
Shameful

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maybe she'd been scared of being paralyzed by fear again.
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There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1.
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Videogame players essentially choose whether to win the game or to die heroically. There's a certain glory in both.
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I opened the door. He looked down at my shirt and smiled. Funny, he said. Don't call my boobs funny, I answered.
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The amazing thing is that we're right to hold onto hope. The world may be broken but hope is not crazy.
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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.
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Tuesday—we had school for the first time. Madame O’Malley had a moment of silence at the beginning of French class, a class that was always punctuated with long moments of silence, and then asked us how we were feeling. “Awful,” a girl said. “En français,” Madame O’Malley replied. “En français.
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And he found himself thinking that maybe stories don't just make us matter to each other - maybe they're also the only way to the infinite mattering he'd been after for so long.
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Colin had always preferred baths one of his general policies in life was never to do anything standing up that could just as easily be done lying down
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I would argue that stupidity is born out of bad reading, bad teaching and bad thinking!
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Here's my answer to the very real existential crisis that grips me midway through everything I've ever tried to do: I think stories help us fight the nihilistic urges that constantly threaten to consume us.
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I'll fight it. I'll fight it for you. Don't you worry about me, Hazel Grace. I'm okay. I'll find a way to hang around and annoy you for a long time.
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I'll just go over to the Duke's, I said. Her parents already told me I could stay there. I'll go over there and open all my presents, and talk about how my parents neglect me, and then maybe the Duke will give me some of her presents because she feels so bad about how my mom doesn't love me.
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You do not immortalize the lost by writing about them. Language buries, but does not resurrect.
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The only person I really wanted to talk to about Augustus Water's death with was Augustus Waters.
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The real heroes anyway aren't the people doing things the real heroes are the people NOTICING things, paying attention. The guy who invented the smallpox vaccine didn't actually invent anything. He just noticed that people with cowpox didn't get smallpox.
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I leave, and the leaving is so exhilarating I know I can never go back. But then what? Do I just keep leaving places, and leaving them, and leaving them, tramping a perpetual journey?
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But what could I lose by continuing that had not already been lost?
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See, popularity is complicated. You have to spend a lot of time thinking about liking you have to really like being liked, and also sort like being disliked.
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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.
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