The past feels distant, even when it's near. The future feels assured, even when it isn't.

As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.

Books are like tweets, except longer.

I liked Augustus Waters. I really, really really liked him. I liked the way his story ended with someone else. I liked his voice. I liked that he took existentially-fraught free throws.

But ultimately I do not believe that she was only matter. The rest of her must be recycled, too. I believe now that we are greater than the sum of our parts. If you take Alaska's genetic code and you add her life experiences and the relationships she had with people, and then you take the size and shape of her body, you do not get her. There is something else entirely. There is a part of her greater than the sum of her knowable parts. And that part has to go somewhere, because it cannot be destroyed

The light filtered throught the leaves and pine needles above as if through lace, the ground spotted in shadow.

That was part of her, and you used to know it. It's like now you only care about the Alaska you made up.