What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.
She loved mysteries so much that she became one.
It is so hard to leave-until you leave.
All the things paper-thin and paper-frail, and all the people too.
It is so hard to leave—until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world.
The town was paper, but the memories were not.
Margo always loved mysteries. And in everything that came afterward, I could never stop thinking that maybe she loved mysteries so much that she became one.
That's always seemed so ridiculous to me, that people want to be around someone because they're pretty. It's like picking your breakfeast cereals based on color instead of taste.
At some point, you gotta stop looking up at the sky, or one of these days you'll look back down and see that you floated away, too.
Maybe all the strings inside him broke.
I've lived here for eighteen years and I have never once in my life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters.
You see how fake it all is. It's not even hard enough to be made out of plastic. It's a paper town.
She was not an adventure, she was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl.
Sometimes the way you think about someone isn't the way they actually are.
I'm not saying that everything is survivable. Just that everything except the last thing is.
I'm starting to realize that people lack good mirrors. It's so hard for anyone to show us how we look, & so hard for us to show anyone how we feel.
The rules of capitalization are so unfair to words in the middle of a sentence.
Life has become the future. Every moment of your life is lived for the future.
And now life has become the future. Every moment of your life is lived for the future-you go to high school so you can go to college so you can get a good job so you can get nice house.
But before we can radically reshape the world, we need to shop.