I ran like a cheetah - well, like a cheetah that smoked too much.
The light filtered throught the leaves and pine needles above as if through lace, the ground spotted in shadow.
Keys show up when you reconcile yourself to the bus.
Grief doesn't change you. It reveals you.
It is a good life, Hazel Grace.
Ashes to ashes. Garage sale to garage sale,” I said.