Only now that I loved a grenade did I understand the foolishness of trying to save others from my own impending fragmentation: I couldn’t unlove Augustus Waters. And I didn’t want to.

There's your labyrinth of suffering. We are all going. Find your way out of that maze.

You're not a little kid anymore. You need to make friends, get out of the house, and live your life.

The internet is necessarily public. It can be filtered-public or censored-public, but it necessarily has to be open and available.

Right, except I'm not going to lie to my mom, because what kind of (man) lies to his own mother?

After all this time, it seems to me like straight and fast is the only way out- but I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it.

She had the kind of eyes that predisposed you to supporting her every endeavor.