The voracious ambition of humans is never sated by dreams coming true, because there is always the thought that everything might be done better and again.
...amor mío, no puedo expresar lo mucho que te agradezco nuestro pequeño infinito. No lo cambiaría por el mundo entero. Me has dado una eternidad en esos días contados, y te doy las gracias.
Because you’re beautiful. I enjoy looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence.
People always get used to beauty, though. "I haven't gotten used to you just yet," he answered, smiling.
I liked that he was a tenured professor in the Department of Slightly Crooked Smiles with a dual appointments in the Department of Having a Voice that Made My Skin Feel More Like Skin.
There is only one things in this world shittier than biting it from cancer when you're sixteen, and that's having a kid who bites it from cancer.
Support Group featured a rotating cast of characters in various states of tumor-driven unwellness. Why did the cast rotate? A side effect of dying.
I didn't tell him that the diagnosis came three months after I got my first period. Like: Congratulations! You're a woman. Now die.
Even the most difficult things lead us where we need to go. It just isn’t always where we thought we were headed.
It occurred to me that the voracious ambition of humans is never sated by dreams coming true, because the is always the thought that everything might be done better and again
I went on spouting bullshit Encouragements as Gus's parents, arm in arm, hugged each other and nodded at every word. Funerals, I had decided, are for the living.
I will not tell you our love story, because-like all real love stories-it will die with us,as it should.
Sometimes I dream that I'm writing a memoir. A memoir would just be the thing to keep me in the hearts and memories of my adoring public.
Peter Van Houten was the only person I’d ever come across who seemed to (a) understand what it’s like to be dying, and (b) not have died.
...there are books...which you can't tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like a betrayal.
If we'd put them in a vase in the living room, they would have been everyone's flowers. I wanted them to be mt flowers.
All I know of heaven and all I know of death is in this park: an elegant universe in ceaseless motion, teeming with ruined ruins and screaming children.
It's a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don't give it the power to do its killing.
I wanted to know that he would be okay if I died. I wanted to not be a grenade, to not be a malevolent force in the lives of people I loved.
Is it still cool to go to the mall?' she asked. 'I take quite a lot of pride in not knowing what's cool,' I answered.
Nothing,” I said. “I’m just…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, didn’t know how to. “I’m just very, very fond of you.
