Margo always loved mysteries. And in everything that came afterward, I could never stop thinking that maybe she loved mysteries so much that she became one.
John GreenLacey shrugged bashfully. โDo you think Iโm superficial?โ โWell, yeah.โ I thought of myself standing outside Beccaโs bedroom, hoping sheโd take her shirt off. โBut so am I,โ I added. โSo is everyone.
John GreenGirls think theyโre only allowed to wear dresses on formal occasions, but I like a woman who says, you know, Iโm going over to see a boy who is having a nervous breakdown, a boy whose connection to the sense of sight itself is tenuous, and gosh dang it, I am going to wear a dress for him.
John GreenWhat is an "instant" death anyway? How long is an instant? Is it one second? Ten? The pain of those seconds must have been awful as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and there was no air and no blood to her brain and only raw panic. What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous.
John Green