I honestly think that crying over a book is one of the most prominent sign of compassion for humanity. You’re crying over someone who isn’t really there, doesn’t really exist, but you still feel for them as if you have known them your entire life
"And what is an ‘instant’ death anyway? How long is an instant? Is it one second? Ten? The pain of those seconds must have been awful as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and there was no air and no blood to her brain and only raw panic. What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous."
— John Green, Looking for Alaska (via alcoholiques)
"Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than about the stories and people we’re quoting."
— John Green(via allikaat)