Turtles All the Way Down

by John Green

But I was beginning to

learn that your life is a story told about you, not one that you tell.

It’s quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.

“I still can’t believe he left us.” She said it like it was a decision, like he’d been mowing the lawn that day and thought, I think I’ll fall down dead now.

“He who doesn’t fear death dies only once,” which I thought was maybe some veiled reference to his father, but I couldn’t unpack it. (For the record, he who does fear death also dies only once, but whatever.)

though. Instead, I got stuck searching his usernames and variants of them, and ended up meeting a lot of people who weren’t my Davis Pickett—the fifty-three-year-old Dave Pickett who was a truck driver in Wisconsin;

The terrarium was behind him, and now that my eyes were fully adjusted to the dark I could see the tuatara on a branch, staring at us through one of her redblack eyes. “Tua’s watching us,” I said. “She’s such a perv,” Davis answered, and then turned to look at the animal.