John Green
American author of young adult fiction, who has appeared on the New York Times list of bestselling children's chapter books.
He wanted to draw out the moment before the moment—because as good as kissing feels, nothing feels as good as the anticipation of it.
Good morning Hank. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: 'My older brother really needs a haircut!' Well, Hank, I've got one thing to say to that. Never!
If you are rich, you have to be an idiot not to stay rich. And if you are poor, you have to be really smart to get rich.
"Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, read the same book over and over, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my abundant free time to thinking about death."
I may die young, but at least I'll die smart.
Missing her kept him awake more than the coffee.
At some point, you just pull off the Band-Aid and it hurts, but then it's over and you're relieved.
"God will punish the wicked. And before He does, we will."
'What's the meaning of life?' Other people.
You listen to people so that you can imagine them, and you hear all the terrible and wonderful things people do to themselves and to one another, but in the end the listening exposes you even more than it exposes the people you're trying to listen to.
I would always love Alaska Young, my crooked neighbor, with all my crooked heart.
People just liked Hassan, the way people like fast food and celebrities.
[Twilight] argues that true love will triumph in the end, which may or may not be true, but if it's a lie, it's the most beautiful lie we have.
Lacey takes the bar from me and reluctantly bites into it. She has to close her eyes to hide the orgasmic pleasure inherent in GoFast-tasting. "Oh. My. God. That tastes like hope feels."
"It's a penis," Margo said, "in the same sense that Rhode Island is a state: it may have an illustrious history, but it sure isn't big."
The Colonel ran ahead of me, gleeful at his ejection, and I jogged after him, trailing in his wake. I wanted to be one of those people who have streaks to maintain, who scorch the ground with their intensity. But for now, at least I knew such people, and they needed me, just like comets need tails.
It was, he thought, just like how authors always wrote things in ways other than how they actually happened.
"And we'll call you...hmmm. Pudge."
"Huh?"
"Pudge," the Colonel said. "Because you're skinny. It's called irony, Pudge. Heard of it? Now, let's go get some cigarettes and start this year off right."
Thomas Edison's last words were, "It's very beautiful over there." I don't know where there is, but I know it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful.
"The weird thing about houses is that they almost always look like nothing is happening inside of them, even though they contain most of our lives. I wondered if that was sort of the point of architecture."