Let it Snow

by John Green

broad of shoulder, bright of eye, and floppy of hair.

more or less ruptured an eye in my excitement and confusion.

I envisioned huge piles of the Elf Hotel flying off the belt, taking down everyone in sight. I had seen pictures of the Elf Hotel—it had sharp candy-cane spires that could easily impale someone. And if anyone was ever going to be killed by an Elf Hotel, it would be my parents.

a little touch of Oprah would have helped.

behind every façade of perfection is a writhing mess of subterfuge and secret sorrows

a little too much for my mind at the moment.

knowing something is beautiful and caring about it are two very different things,

I began, seeing the doomed conversational path open wide in front of me and getting myself into sprinting position,

“Things around here have deviated from the usual,” he said.

Stuart must have sensed my despair from the way I began lightly banging my forehead on the table.

Don-Keun vaulted the counter with a mop, almost impaling himself in the process.

the absence of a bag on his head

Noah was not a fooler-arounder. For fun, we’d update the council Web site.

Oh, right! Kissing! Quickly! Quickly! More movement! Deploy tongue!

Into your pants with a high-powered magnifying glass on a search for your tiny balls?”

Man, I am going to die in a baby-blue ski suit. My mom is going to have to identify my body, and she’s going to spend the rest of her life thinking that, in his private time, her son liked to dress up like a hypothermic porn star from the 1970s.”

“They’ll have to turn to cannibalism. And Keun will be the first to go.”

“If by that you mean that I dislike celebrity magazines, prefer food to anorexia, refuse to watch TV shows about models, and hate the color pink, then yes. I am proud to be not really a girl.”

She was much more like a person than other girls were.

Cheesy waffles, I was thinking, taste like love without the fear of love’s dissolution,

So much depends upon the golden hash browns, glazed with oil, beside the scrambled eggs.”

wiping his nose on the sleeve of my dad’s onesie.

felt like a little kid in one of those inflatable moon walks—I couldn’t get hurt by falling. I couldn’t get hurt by anything.

keep Gabriel hidden in the back room after I picked him up, and she would never have to know.

Uh not likely!