The Fault in Our Stars

by John Green

The senses must feast while there is yet hunger and whatever.

You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don’t give it the power to do its killing.”

“You choose your behaviors based on their metaphorical resonances…”

“Sometimes people don’t understand the promises they’re making when they make them,”

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

I believe in true love, you know? I don’t believe that everybody gets to keep their eyes or not get sick or whatever, but everybody should have true love, and it should last at least as long as your life does.”

The dead are visible only in the terrible lidless eye of memory.

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

The world went on, as it does, without my full participation,

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,

“If only my memory would compromise,”

‘Sometimes it seems the universe wants to be noticed.’

The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with.

‘You are going to live a good and long life filled with great and terrible moments that you cannot even imagine yet!’”

So dawn goes down to day, the poet wrote. Nothing gold can stay.

‘Pain is like fabric: The stronger it is, the more it’s worth.’ Is that true, Hazel?”

The marks humans leave are too often scars.

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.