Language buries, but does not resurrect.

I told Augustus the broad outline of my miracle: diagnosed with Stage IV thyroid cancer when I was thirteen. (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.)

He knew he couldn't tell stories, that he always included extraneous details & tangents that interested only him.

Read a lot. Read broadly... Tell stories to your friends, and pay attention to when they get bored... Write a lot.

She's just playing a trick on us. This is just an Alaska Young Prank Extraordinaire. It's Alaska being Alaska, funny and playful and not knowing when or how to put on the brakes.

But my miracle was different. My miracle was this: out of all the houses in all the subdivisions in all of Florida, I ended up living next door to Margo Roth Spiegelman.

I fear your faith has been mis- placed—but then, faith usually is.