John Green Quotes

Lies are attempts to hide the truth by willfully denying facts. Fiction, on the other hand, is an attempt to reveal the truth by ignoring facts.

We look back to the most important moment in our history, and that becomes the dividing line between what we were and what we are now.

I'm not embarrassed by my faith, and I'm also not embarrassed by my doubt.

I don't think you're dying," I said. "I think you've just got a touch of cancer. He smiled. Gallows humor.

But I could always tell in her eyes if she got really pissed at me, and her eyes were still pretty smiley

I smiled. She smiled. I believed the smile.

Doing stuff never feels as good as you hope it will feel.

The easiest way to solve a mystery is to decide that there is no mystery to solve.

Maybe this time she wanted to be found, and to be found by me.

Before any of it could make sense, it had to be heard.

In the end the listening exposes you even more than it exposes the people you're trying to listen to.

When you leave a place, it's best to leave.

But as for me: I must ask the wounded man where he is hurt, because I cannot become the wounded man. The only wounded man I can be is me.

We are now as I wished we could be then.

We don't suffer from a shortage of metaphors . . . But you have to be careful which metaphor you choose, because it matters.

I can't be you. You can't be me. You can imagine another well—but never quite perfectly, you know?

The Romans knew it: quod me alit me extinguit, they said: That which nourishes me, extinguishes me.

My regret was immediate and permanent and useless.

Did I help you toward a fate you didn't want, Alaska, or did I just assist in your willful self-destruction?

She raised one leg and gave me all her weight as a I dipped her. She either trusted me or wanted to fall.

I could stand up and go to her and kiss her. I could. But there is still too much to be ruined.

... she called it a paper town. Like, you know, everything so fake and flimsy.

This is the fear that made fish crawl out onto dry land and evolve lungs, the fear that teaches us to run, the fear that makes us bury our dead.

And as paralyzing and upsetting as all the never agains were, the final leaving felt perfect. Pure. The most distilled possible form of liberation.

That tastes like hope feels.

And then we were kissing.....The space around us evaporated, and for a weird moment I rally like my body; this cancer-ruined thing I'd spent years dragging around suddenly seemed worth the struggle.

Also, it was a bit hopeless," he said. "A bit defeatist." "If by defeatist you mean honest, then I agree." "I don't think defeatism is honest, " Dad answered. "I refuse to accept that.

Okay is BURSTING with sensuality

You never know. It's just. It's like. POOF. And you're gone.

Whatever. Great day. Today. Best day of my life.

I want to minimize the deaths I am responsible for.

Indiana,’ he said. ‘They steal the land from the Indians and leave the name, yes?

I kind of conned you into believing you were falling in love with a healthy person.

I pulled the oxygen tubes from my nostrils and raised the tube up over my head, handing it to Dad. I wanted it to be just me and just him.

I’ve stopped thinking about it. I don’t have time to have a girlfriend. I have like a full-time job Learning How to Be Blind.

Hurt tends to drown out sorry.

And I don’t blame him. I don’t even trust me.

I learned that myth doesn’t mean a lie; it means a traditional story that tells you something about people and their worldview and what they hold sacred. Interesting.

feeling - probably for the first time in my life - the fear and excitement of living in a place where you never know what's going to happen or when.

my lungs sucked at being lungs.

When you say nasty things about people, you should never say the true ones, because you can't really fully and honestly take those back.

I spent your Wish on that doucheface,” I said into his chest. “Hazel Grace. No. I will grant you that you did spend my one and only Wish, but you did not spend it on him. You spent it on us.

Depression is a side effect of dying. (Almost everything is, really).

I worked hard to meet his eyes, even though they were the kind of pretty that's hard to look at.

What happened?" "During the kiss?" "No, with you and Caroline." "Oh," he said. And then after a second, "Caroline is no longer suffering from personhood.

The preciousness of the moment, which should make it easier to talk, makes it harder.

As far as all of our identities are dependent on how other people imagine us we are all making ourselves and each other up all the time

You're not going to impose the patriarchal paradigm on me.

It's nice to have people who will feel guilty for you.

Pudge, my friend, we are indefuckingstructible.