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... and it occurred to me that the voracious ambition of humans is never sated by dreams coming true, because there is always the thought that everything might be done better and again.

"Det er det med smerte," sa Augustus, og kikket bort på meg igjen. "Den krever å bli følt."

Og så er det bøker (...) som du ikke kan fortelle noen om, bøker som er så spesielle og sjeldne og dine at det føles som et svik å snakke høyt om din hengivenhet ovenfor dem.

Noen ganger kan du lese en bok, og så fyller den deg med en merkelig glød og lyst til å spre det glade budskap, og du blir overbevist om at vår knuste verden aldri vil bli limt sammen igjen med mindre og før alle levende mennesker leser akkurat den boka.

"I can't talk about our love story, so I will talk about math. I am not a mathematician, but I know this: There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There's .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. (...) I want more numbers than I am likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I am grateful."

I couldn't be mad at him for even a moment, and only now that I loved a grenade did I understand the foolishness of trying to save others from my own impending fragmentation: I couldn't unlove Augustus Waters. And I didn't want to.

It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.

"I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once."

Det er jævlig vanskelig å holde fast ved verdigheten din når den oppstegne sola er for skarp i dine tapende øyne (...)

Flørting var nytt for meg, men jeg likte det.