All salvation is temporary," Augustus shot back. "I bought them a minute. Maybe that's the minute that buys them an hour, which is the hour that buys them a year. No one's gonna buy them forever, Hazel Grace, but my life bought them a minute. And that's not nothing.

We think that we are invincible because we are.

Is the labyrinth living or dying?

The risen sun too bright in her losing eyes.

Nerdighters make me believe in America again.

We don't suffer from a shortage of metaphors . . . But you have to be careful which metaphor you choose, because it matters.

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.