"Saved the kids",he said.
"Temporarily,"I pointed out.
"All salvation is temporary," Augustus shot back. "I bought them a minute. Maybe that's the minute that buys them an hour, which is the hour that buys them a year. No one's gonna buy them forever, Hazel Grace, but my life bought them a minute. And that's not nothing."
"Whoa, okay," I said. "We're just talking about pixels." ( Augustus Waters & Hazel Grace Lancaster - pag. 59 )
(John Green - The Fault In Our Stars)
*sursa poza AICI
I sat on the couch for a while as Augustus searched for his keys. His mom sat down next to me and said, "I just love this one, don't you?" I guess I had been looking toward the Encouragement above the TV, a drawing of an angel with the caption Without Pain, How Could We Know Joy?
(This is an old argument in the field of Thinking About Suffering, and its stupidity and lack of sophistication could be plumbed for centuries, but suffice it to say that the existence of broccoli does not in any way affect the taste of chocolate.) "Yes," I said. "A lovey thought." (Hazel Grace Lancaster & Mrs. Waters - pag. 35)
(John Green - The Fault In Our Stars)
*sursa poza AICI
"So what's your story?" he asked, sitting down next to me at a safe distance.
"I already told you my story. I was diagnosed when -"
"No, not your cancer story. Your story. Interests, hobbies, passions, weird fetishes,etcetera."
"Um," I said.
"Don't tell me you're one of those people who becomes their disease. I know so many people like that. It's disheartening. Like, cancer is in the growth business, right? The taking-people-over business. But surely you haven't let it succeed prematurely.
It occurred to me that perhaps I had. I struggled with how to pitch myself to Augustus Waters, which enthusiasm to embrace, and in the silence that followed it occurred to me that I wasn't very interesting. "I am pretty unextraordinary."
"I reject that out of hand. Think of something you like. The first thing that comes to mind."
"Um. Reading?"
"What do you read?"
"Everything. From, like, hideous romance to pretentious fiction to poetry. Whatever."
"Do you write poetry, too?"
"No. I don't write."
"There!" Augustus almost shouted. "Hazel Grace, you are the only teenager in America who prefers reading poetry to writing it. This tells me so much. You read a lot of capital-G great books, don't you?"
"I guess?"
"What's your favorite?"
"Um," I said.
My favorite book, by a wide margin, was An Imperial Affliction, but I didn't like to tell people about it. Sometimes, you read a book, and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book. And there are books like An Imperial Affliction, which you can't tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like a betrayal.
It wasn't even that the book was so good or anything;it was just that the author, Peter Van Houten, seemed to understand me me in weird and impossible ways. An Imperial Affliction was my book, in a way my body was my body and my thoughts were my thoughts. (Augustus Waters & Hazel Grace Lancaster - pag. 32-34)
(John Green - The fault in our stars - 2012)
* sursa poza
AICI
