When you're writing a novel, you spend four years sitting in your basement and a year waiting for the book to come… — John Green Copy Share Image
I'm sitting her thinking, -God, I swear I will take a vow of silence and move to a monastery and worship you… — John Green Copy Share Image
Everything that comes together falls apart. Everything. The chair I’m sitting on. It was built, and so it will fall apart. I’m… — John Green Copy Share Image
This was what I liked most about my friends: just sitting around & telling stories. — John Green Copy Share Image
We were sitting there on the couch together, and he pushed himself up to go but then fell back down onto the… — John Green Copy Share Image
And I don't really have anyone upon whom I want to rain down my wrath," I said, because in truth I didn't.… — John Green Copy Share Image
As I followed Margo's directions through the maze of one-way streets, we saw a few people sleeping on the sidewalk or sitting… — 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
