Book: The fault in our stars (Error our stars)

Sometimes you read a book and it fills you almost Evangelical fervor, so you're imbued with the conviction - of the collapsed world will never recover until all of humanity to read it.

On the shirt was a print of the famous painting by surrealist Rene Magritte: he painted a pipe and signed in italics: "C'est n'est pas une pipe" ("This is not a pipe").
- I do not understand this t-shirt, mom said.
- Peter van Houten understand, believe me. It is a thousand times recalls Magritte in "the Royal disease".
But it is a pipe.
- No, not a pipe - I said. Is the picture tube. You know? Any images of things are inherently abstract. It's very subtle.

After that, I suddenly realized that there is nobody more to call, and it was the saddest of all. The only person I wanted to talk about the death of Augustus waters, he was Augustus waters.

The pain is like fabric: the stronger it is, the more appreciated.

- Nostalgia is a side effect of cancer, ' I reminded her.
- No, nostalgia is a side effect of dying, he said.

The world lives its own life, even if I'm doing this half-heartedly.

That's what the mother can do is to fan any excuse for a holiday. Today Is Tree Day! Let's hug the trees and eat cake! Columbus brought the Indians smallpox, a picnic in honor of this event!

Cancer bonuses - it favors or gifts to children with cancer get and healthy no: basketballs autographed by the Champions-free submission of homework (no reduction for being late), undeserved driver's license and the like.

He overtook me, squaring his shoulders and straightening her back. He just barely dragged his right foot, but confidently and smoothly marched on, and as I have purposed, prosthesis. Osteosarcoma usually take a limb. Then, if she likes you, she picks up the rest.

Who is so hard to resist the temptation?

A strange thing, but outside of the house, with rare exception, do not reveal what is in their walls, although there occurs a large part of our lives. Maybe this is the global target architecture?

To love is to fulfill the promises, come what may.

Do not think that I don't trust you, but I don't trust you.

Only now that I loved a grenade, it dawned on me the donkey's stupid attempts to save others from my inevitable and imminent defragmentation: I can't know Augustus waters. Don't want to.