Your friendship with her-it sleeps with the fishes.
And so that is the question I leave you with in this final: What is your cause for hope?
We're professional worriers. You're constantly imagining things that could go wrong and then writing about them.
He specialized in the murder of dreams, Hazel Grace.
I didn’t need you, you idiot. I picked you. And then you picked me back.
The world is not a wish-granting factory.