Цитаты из книги خطای ستارگان بخت ما

Кто я такая, чтобы утверждать, что все это не навсегда? Кто такой Питер ван Хутен, чтобы заявлять как факт гипотезу, что любые наши усилия тщетны? Все, что я знаю о рае, и все, что я знаю о смерти, здесь, в этом парке: элегантная вселенная в непрерывном движении, изобилующая руинами и шумными детьми.

Боль хочет, чтоб её чувствовали.

Я на поезде американских горок, которые едет только вверх.

Amsterdam was a city designed for movement and activity, a city that would rather not travel by car, and so inevitably I felt excluded from it.

Dad always told me that you can judge people by the way they treat waiters and assistants. By this measure, Peter Van Houten was possibly the world's douchiest douche.

A sturdy young waiter with wavy blond hair appeared. He was maybe even taller than Augustus. "Do you know," he asked in a delicious accent, "what Don Perignon said after inventing champagne?" "No?" I said. "He called out to his fellow monks, 'Come quickly: I am tasting the stars'. Welcome to Amsterdam".

Amsterdam is like the rings of the tree: It gets older as you get closer to the center.

I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things.

Standing in line is a form of oppression

You do not immortalize the lost by writing about them. Language buries, but does not resurrect.

I tried not to think about the word wounded, which of course is a way of thinking about it.

Kaitlyn never wore open-toed shoes on account of how she hated her feet because she felt her second toes were too long, as if the second toe was a window into the soul or something.

It's Arbor Day! Let's hug trees and eat cake! Columbus brought smallpox to the natives; we shall recall the occasion with a picnic!

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.)

Но мы безорганизованные плакальщики, так что все помнят Шекспира, но никто не помнит человека, о котором он написал Сонет 55.

• - Знаешь, Гас очень любил тебя, - сказал он. • - Я знаю. • - Он все заткнуться не мог. • - Я знаю, - сказала я. • - Прямо надоел мне. • - А мне не особенно, - сказала я.

Айзек: «Мне отвратителен мир без Августа Уотерса». Компьютер: «Я не понимаю…» Айзек: «Я тоже. Пауза».