And I will forget her, yes. That which came together will fall apart slowly, but she will forgive my forgetting, just as I forgive her for forgetting me and the Colonel and nothing but herself and her mom in those last moments as she spent as a person.

That smile could end wars and cure cancer.

You either have a great social life and shitty taste in music, or a fantastic taste in music with barely any social life.

Nerd girls are the world's greatest under-utilized romantic resource.

That’s part of what I like about the book in some ways. It portrays death truthfully. You die in the middle of your life, in the middle of a sentence

Margo's beauty was a kind of sealed vessel of perfection--uncracked and uncrackable.

Neither novels or their readers benefit from any attempts to divine whether any facts hide inside a story. Such efforts attack the very idea that made-up stories can matter, which is sort of the foundational assumption of our species.