The tales of our exploits will survive as long as the human voice itself,' he said. 'And even after that, when the robots recall the human absurdities of sacrifice and compassion, they will remember us.

I leaned in toward her, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that we must kiss.

What can we do?" Mom asked again. I shrugged. But she kept asking, as if there were something she could do, until I just kind of crawled across the couch into her lap and my dad came over and held my legs really tight and I wrapped my arms all the way around my mom's middle and they held on to me for hours while the tide rolled in.

Even then, it hurt. The pain was always there, pulling me inside of myself, demanding to be felt. It always felt like I was waking up from the pain when something in the world outside of me suddenly required my comment or attention.

You can't not like "The Great Gatsby." It's got the best sentences in, like, ever.

I ran like a cheetah - well, like a cheetah that smoked too much.

You will go to the paper towns and never come back.