I'm a good person but a shitty writer. You're a shitty person but a good writer. We'd make a good team.

People always get used to beauty though.

3 whole Catfish, Wrapped separately Veet (It’s for Shaving your legs Only you don’t Need A razor. It’s with all the Girly cosmetic stuff) Vaseline six pack, Mountain Dew One dozen Tulips one Bottle Of water Tissues One Can of blue Spray paint

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

There were so many of us who would have to live with things done and things left undone that day. Things that did not go right, things that seemed okay at the time because we could not see the future. If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can't know better until knowing better is useless.

At the end, we brought her to New York, where I was living, for a series of experimental tortures that increased the misery of her days without increasing the number of them.

Much of my life had been devoted to trying not to cry in front of people who loved me, so I knew what Augustus was doing. You clench your teeth. You look up. You tell yourself that if they see you cry, it will hurt them, and you will be nothing but a Sadness in their lives, and you must not become a mere sadness, so you will not cry, and you say all of this to yourself while looking up at the ceiling, and then you swallow even though your throat does not want to close and you look at the person who loves you and smile.