Turtles All the Way Down
John Green
ONE
I was beginning to learn that your life is a story told about you, not one that you tell.
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Color: yellow |
The thing about a spiral is, if you follow it inward, it never actually ends. It just keeps tightening, infinitely.
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Color: yellow |
we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate than eye contact anyway. Anybody can look at you. It’s quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.
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Color: yellow |
TWO
“It’s just weird, how this is decided by someone I don’t know and then I have to live by it. Like, I live on someone else’s schedule. And I’ve never even met them.” “Yes, well, in that respect and many others, American high schools do rather resemble prisons.”
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Color: yellow |
I don’t like to throw the L-word around; it’s too good and rare a feeling to cheapen with overuse.
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Color: yellow |
You can live a good life without ever knowing real love, of the Corinthians variety, but I was fortunate to have found it with Harold. He was a sixteen-year-old Toyota Corolla with a paint color called Mystic Teal Mica and an engine that clanked in a steady rhythm like the beating of his immaculate metallic heart. Harold had been my dad’s car—in fact, Dad had named him Harold. Mom never sold him, so he stayed in the garage for eight years, until my sixteenth birthday.
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Color: yellow |
I eased Harold up to highway speed. I never drove him faster than the speed limit. I loved him too much.
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Color: yellow |
THREE
True terror isn’t being scared; it’s not having a choice in the matter.
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Color: yellow |
FOUR
“Whether it hurts is kind of irrelevant.”
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Color: yellow |
SIX
Sometimes you happen across a brilliant run of radio songs, where each time one station goes to commercial, you scan to another that has just started to play a song you love but had almost forgotten about, a song you never would’ve picked but that turns out to be perfect for shouting along to.
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Color: yellow |
NINE
Your now is not your forever.
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Color: yellow |
TEN
He’d taken most of the pictures himself, so you rarely see him—instead, you see what he saw, what looked interesting to him, which was mostly me, Mom, and the sky broken up by tree branches.
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Color: yellow |
FOURTEEN
What I love about science is that as you learn, you don’t really get answers. You just get better questions.”
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Color: yellow |
SEVENTEEN
In the best conversations, you don’t even remember what you talked about, only how it felt.
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Color: yellow |
TWENTY
Maybe we invented metaphor as a response to pain. Maybe we needed to give shape to the opaque, deep-down pain that evades both sense and senses.
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Color: yellow |
TWENTY-TWO
It makes me feel like you only like me at a distance. I need to be liked close up.
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Color: yellow |
You’d think solving mysteries would bring you closure, that closing the loop would comfort and quiet your mind. But it never does. The truth always disappoints.
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Color: yellow |
TWENTY-THREE
People always talk like there’s a bright line between imagination and memory, but there isn’t, at least not for me. I remember what I’ve imagined and imagine what I remember.
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Color: yellow |
TWENTY-FOUR
Good-bye, Aza, and no one ever says good-bye unless they want to see you again.
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Color: yellow |