The Fault in Our Stars

by John Green

“That’s the thing about pain,” Augustus said, and then glanced back at me. “It demands to be felt.”

You are so busy being you that you have no idea how utterly unprecedented you are.”

I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.

The weird thing about houses is that they almost always look like nothing is happening inside of them, even though they contain most of our lives. I wondered if that was sort of the point of architecture.

“I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”

“I don’t ever want to do that to you,” I told him. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind, Hazel Grace. It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.”

funny. You have a choice in this world, I believe, about how to tell sad stories, and we made the funny choice:

Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful.”

You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes hers.