John Green may refer to:
How do you just stop being terrified of getting left behind and ending up by yourself forever and not meaning anything to the world?
but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever.
Grateful to be a little boat, full of water, still floating.
You were clearly not doing your part in the clover search, perv.
She walks lightly, old man. She walks lightly upon the earth.
I would always love Alaska Young, my crooked neighbor, with all my crooked heart.
Like the way the sun is right now, with the long shadows, and that kind of bright, soft light you get when the sun isn't quite setting? That's the light that makes everything better, everything prettier, and today, everything just seemed to be in that light.
There's not even real *popularity* at my school. " "That," Coli said emphatically, "is a sentence that has only ever been spoken by popular people.
Something about me has always liked the drama and inconvience of bad weather. The worse the better, really.
but there was nothing I could do to dim the supernovae exploding inside my brain, an endless chain of intra cranial firecrackers
At least it was instant. At least there wasn't any pain. " I knew he was only trying to help, but he didn't get it. There was pain. A dul endless pain in my gut that wouldn't go away even when I knelt on the stingingly frozen tile of the bathroom, dry-heaving.
Do the thing you're good at. Not many people are lucky enough to be so good at something.
I like to build places online where readers can have productive conversations about books.
I wouldn't have cared if my girlfriend was a Jaguar-driving Cyclops with a beard - I'd have been grateful just to have someone to make out with.
By the way, I've decided to start referring to myself exclusively as 'Daddy. ' Everytime Daddy would otherwise say 'I' or 'Me,' Daddy is now going to say 'Daddy.
This is unbearable. . . God. These books she'll never read. Her Life's Library.
You do not immortalize the lost by writing about them. Language buries, but does not resurrect.
To be fair to Monica," I said, "what you did to her wasn't very nice either. " "What'd I do to her?" he asked, defensive. "You know, going blind and everything. " "But that's not my fault," Isaac said. "I'm not saying it was your fault. I'm saying it wasn't nice.
It's total bullshit," he said. "The whole thing. Eighty percent survival rate and he's in the twenty percent? Bullshit. He was such a bright kid. It's bullshit. I hate it. But it was sure a privilege to love him, huh?
It seems to me that the great pleasure of human life is not in having an opinion, but rather in learning all the ways you are wrong, and all the nuances you failed to account for, and all the truths that turned out to be not as simple as you once believed. And it seems to me that one of the central pleasures of attending school is that you get to read with really well-informed people who can help welcome you into a complex world stuffed with rich and maddening ambiguity.