They belong to their readers now, which is a great thing–because the books are more powerful in the hands of my readers than they could ever be in my hands.

The fundamental mistake I had always made - and that she had, in fairness, always led me to make - was this: Margo was not a miracle. She was not an adventure. She was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl.

The not knowing would not keep me from caring.

When surprised and excited and innocent Gus emerged from Grand Gesture Metaphorically Inclined Augustus, I literally could not resist.

You should see it. V for Vendetta I mean. "I'll look it up." No. With Me. At my house. Now

You like someone who can't like you back because unrequited love can be survived in a way that once-requited love cannot.

Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you.