Did I help you toward a fate you didn't want, Alaska, or did I just assist in your willful self-destruction?

I choose the labyrinth.

I always had this idea that you should never give up a happy middle in the hopes of a happy ending, because there is no such thing as a happy ending. Do you know what I mean? There is so much to lose.

I think that it's a universal urge to have our pain not be felt alone and to have our joys not be felt alone.

Because there is no glory in illness. There is no meaning to it. There is no honor in dying of.

We're not going to break anything. Don't think of it as breaking in to SeaWorld. Think of it as visiting SeaWorld in the middle of the night for free.

One of the pitfalls about writing about illness is that it is very easy to imagine people with cancer as either these wise-beyond-their-years creatures or these sad-eyed tragic people. And the truth is, people living with cancer are very much like people who are not living with cancer. They're every bit as funny and complex and diverse as anyone else.