"Your friendship with her-it sleeps with the fishes."
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"Your friendship with her-it sleeps with the fishes."
"Such is life. We grow up. Planets like Tiny get new moons. Moons like me get new planets."
"The important thing is not whatever nonsense the voices are saying, but what the voices are feeling."
"He let his mind wander. It went to a predictable place, and he missed her"
"he is both the source of my happiness and the one i want to share it with. i have to believe that’s a sign."
"She’s the kind of person who either dies tragically at twenty-seven, like Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, or else grows up to win, like, the first-ever Nobel Prize for Awesome."
"These are all direct quotes, except every time they use a curse word, I'm going to use the name of a famous American poet: 'You Walt Whitman-ing, Edna St. Vincent Millay! Go Emily Dickinson your mom!' 'Thanks for the advice, you pathetic piece of E.E. Cummings, but I think I'm gonna pass.' 'You Robert Frost-ing Nikki Giovanni! Get a life, nerd. You're a virgin.' 'Hey bro, you need to go outside and get some fresh air into you. Or a girlfriend.' I need to get a girlfriend into me? I think that shows a fundamental lack of comprehension about how babies are made."
"I hope we get pulled over, he says. I'd like to see how the cop responds to a black man wearing a Confederate T-shirt over a black dress."
"Leaving feels too good, once you leave."
"The marks humans leave are too often scars. You build a hideous minimall or start a coup or try to become a rock star and you'll think "they'll remember me now," but (a) they don't remember you, and (b) all you leave behind are more scars. Your coup becomes a dictatorship. Your minimall becomes a lesion."
"weltschmerz: its the depression you feel when the world as it is does not line up with the world as you think it should be."
"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."
"And on the last day, the bad days become so difficult to recall, because one way or another, she had made a life here, just as I had. The town was paper, but the memories were not. All the things I’d done here, all the love and pity and compassion and violence and spite, kept welling up inside me."
"You couldn't be more wrong," I said. "You are buying into the cross-stitched sentiments of your parents' throw pillows. You're arguing that the fragile, rare thing is beautiful simply because it is fragile and rare. But that's a lie, and you know it." "You're a hard person to comfort," Augustus said. "Easy comfort isn't comforting," I said."
"If you don’t know about Tumblr then you are not supposed to know about Tumblr. It’s like fight club."
"A desert blessing, an ocean curse."
"Does he have ugly hands? Sometimes beautiful people have ugly hands." "No he has kind of amazing hands."
"Easy comfort isn't comforting"
"Everything's uglier close up," she said. "Not you," I answered."
"I’ve always sort of preferred people who are not entirely likable."