Quotes by John Green

What the hell is that? I laughed.Its my fox hat.Your fox hat?Yeah, Pudge. My fox hat.Why are you wearing your fox hat? I asked.Because no one can catch the motherfucking fox.

Headline? he asked.Swing Set Needs Home, I said.Desperately Lonely Swing Set Needs Loving Home, he said.Lonely, Vaguely Pedophilic Swing Set Seeks the Butts of Children, I said.

As long as we dont die, this is gonna be one hell of a story.

I told Augustus the broad outline of my miracle: diagnosed with Stage IV thyroid cancer when I was thirteen. (I didn’t tell him that the diagnosis came three months after I got my first period. Like: Congratulations! You’re a woman. Now die.)

Yall smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.

Look, let me just say it: He was hot. A nonhot boy stares at you relentlessly and it is, at best, awkward and, at worst, a form of assault. But a hot boy . . . well.

The Colonel led all the cheers.Cornbread! he screamed.CHICKEN! the crowd responded.Rice!PEAS!And then, all together: WE GOT HIGHER SATs.Hip Hip Hip Hooray! the Colonel cried.YOULL BE WORKIN FOR US SOMEDAY!

I hated sports. I hated sports, and I hated people who played them, and I hated people who watched them, and I hated people who didnt hate people who watched or played them.

Well, while you were in the bathroom, I sat down at this picnic table here in Bumblefug, Kentucky, and noticed that someone had carved that GOD HATES FAG, which, aside from being a grammatical nightmare, is absolutely ridiculous. So Im changing it to God Hates Baguettes. Its tough to disagree with that. Everybody hates baguettes.

Just move to the Internet, its great here. We get to live inside where the weather is always awesome.

Just deleting vandalism on the Chuck Norris page, Radar said. For instance, while I do think that Chuck Norris specializes in the roundhouse kick, I dont think its accurate to say, Chuck Norriss tears can cure cancer, but unfortunately he has never cried.

Dude, I don’t want to talk about Lacey’s prom shoes. And I’ll tell you why: I have this thing that makes me really uninterested in prom shoes. It’s called a penis.

We fatties have a bond, dude. Its like a secret society. We got all kinds of shit you dont know about. Handshakes, special fat people dances-we got these secret fugging lairs in the center of the earth and we go down there in the middle of the night when all the skinny kids are sleeping and eat cake and friend chicken and shit. Why dyou think Hollis is still sleeping, kafir? Because we were up all night in the secret lair injecting butter frosting into our veins. ...A fatty trusts another fatty.

Every year, many, many stupid people graduate from college. And if they can do it, so can you.

As far as I can tell, there are two basic (kissing) rules: 1. Dont bite anything without permission. 2. The human tongue is like wasabi: its very powerful, and should be used sparingly.

Getting you a date to prom is so hard that the hypothetical idea itself is actually used to cut diamonds, I added. Radar tapped a locker twice with his fist to show his approval, and then came back with another. Ben, getting you a date to prom is so hard that the American government believes the problem cannot be solved with diplomacy, but will instead require force.

Principled hate is a hell of a lot stronger than Boy, I wish you hadnt mummified me and thrown me into the lake hate.

The food was so good that with each passing course, our conversation devolved further into fragmented celebrations of its deliciousness:I want this dragon carrot risotto to become a person so I can take it to Las Vegas and marry it.

I dont know where people got the idea that characters in books are supposed to be likable. Books are not in the business of creating merely likeable characters with whom you can have some simple identification with. Books are in the business of creating great stories that make youre brain go ahhbdgbdmerhbergurhbudgerbudbaaarr.

He specialized in the murder of dreams, Hazel Grace...