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It's hard as hell to hold on to your dignity when the risen sun is too bright in your losing eyes, and that's what I was thinking about as we hunted for bad guys through the ruins of a city that didn't exist.

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
Risen
Hard
City
Ruins
Thinking
Hold
Bright
Cities
Hell
Dignity
Eyes
Sun
Guy
Guys
Eye
Losing
Hunted
Didn
Exist

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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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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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The funny thing about writing is that whether you're doing well or doing it poorly, it looks the exact same. That's actually one of the main ways that writing is different from ballet dancing.
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So we gave up. I'd finally had enough of chasing after a ghost who did not want to be seen. We'd failed, maybe, but some mysteries aren't meant to be solved.
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I choose the labyrinth.
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Nothing really ever happens like you imagine it will.
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And yet still I worried. I like being a person. I wanted to keep at it. Worry is yet another side effect of dying.
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I smiled. She smiled. I believed the smile.
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I even tried to tell myself to live my best life today.
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I'm not sure if I'm depressed. I mean, I'm not exactly sad. But I'm not exactly happy either. I can laugh and joke and smile during the day, But sometimes when I'm alone at night I forget how to feel.
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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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They belong to their readers now, which is a great thing–because the books are more powerful in the hands of my readers than they could ever be in my hands.
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Our role as humans is to recognize the complexity of others.
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Dying is the last thing I would EVER do!
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Me: If you want me to be a teenager, don't send me to Support Group. Buy me a fake ID so I can go to clubs, drink vodka, and take pot. Mom: You don't take pot, for starters. Me: See, that's the kind of thing I'd know if you got me a fake ID.
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my lungs sucked at being lungs.
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He specialized in the murder of dreams, Hazel Grace.
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She cannot possibly be dead, people do not just die
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And how are you feeling? asked Patrick.Oh, I'm grand. Augustus Waters smiled with a corner of his mouth. I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend.
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