I was born into Bolívar's labyrinth, and so I must believe in the hope of Rabelais' Great Perhaps.

I mean, if Hardee's is urban, I'm not sure I want to see rural.

I spent your Wish on that doucheface,” I said into his chest. “Hazel Grace. No. I will grant you that you did spend my one and only Wish, but you did not spend it on him. You spent it on us.

Those of us who frequent the band room have long suspected that Becca maintains her lovely figure by eating nothing but the souls of kittens and the dreams of impoverished children.

Shouldn't letting go be painless if you've never learned how to hold on?

Because so many people use goodreads, it is an amazingly good—and amazingly underutilized—resource for understanding what people read, why, and how they feel about their reading experiences.

Becoming a father made me much more interested in the parent character in my novels. I've never found parents that interesting.