And I vaguely remember her smiling at me from the door way the glittering ambiguity of a girls smile, which seems to… — John Green Copy Share Image
We are all going, I thought, and it applies to turtles and turtlenecks, Alaska the girl and Alaska the place, because nothing… — John Green Copy Share Image
Tuesday—we had school for the first time. Madame O’Malley had a moment of silence at the beginning of French class, a class… — John Green Copy Share Image
Oh, my god," Augustus said. "i can't believe i have a crush on a girl with such cliché wishes." "i was thirteen,"… — John Green Copy Share Image
The Colonel explained to me that 1. this was Alaska's room, and that 2. she had a single room because the girl… — John Green Copy Share Image
“It's easy to like someone from a distance. But when she stopped being this amazing unattainable thing or whatever, and started being,… — John Green Copy Share Image
Issac:"I dislike living in a world without Augustus Waters." Computer: "I don't understand-" Issac: "Me neither. Pause — John Green Copy Share
She smiled with all the delight of a kid on Christmas morning and said, "Y'all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die." -… — John Green Copy Share
Neither novels or their readers benefit from any attempts to divine whether any facts hide inside a story. Such efforts attack the very idea… — John Green Copy Share
“Traffic's not too bad on Sheridan, and I'm cornering the car like it's the Indy 500, and we're listening to my favorite NMH song,… — John Green Copy Share
So I was ugly. I was never fat, really, and I never wore headgear or had zits or anything. But I was ugly. I… — John Green Copy Share
“said to him quietly, as if I couldn’t hear or something. Dad was about to respond but I interrupted.” — John Green Copy Share
“He was hot. A nonhotboy stares at you relentlessly and it is, at best, awkward and, at worst, a form of assault. But a… — John Green Copy Share
I think if you keep the box closed long enough you do kill the cat, actually. — John Green Copy Share
Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia. (...) You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you'll escape it… — John Green Copy Share
