Youth is counted sweetest by those who are no longer young.

I told Augustus the broad outline of my miracle: diagnosed with Stage IV thyroid cancer when I was thirteen. (I didn’t tell him that the diagnosis came three months after I got my first period. Like: Congratulations! You’re a woman. Now die.)

Hurt tends to drown out sorry.

Our fearlessness shall be our secret weapon.

I wondered whether I could find a Great Perhaps here at all or whether I had made a grand miscalculation.

For the longest time, it felt kind of like my chest was cracking open, but not precisely in an unpleasant way.

The sky is like a monochromatic contemporay painting, drawing me in its illusion of depth, pulling me up.