And also, I wish my cheeks had penises. The longer I do my job, he said, the more I realize that humans lack good mirrors. It always seemed so ridiculous that want to be around someone because they're pretty. Is like basing your breakfast cereal on color instead of taste. This was what I liked most about my friends: Doing stuff never feels as good as you hope it will feel. There are so many people. It is easy to forget how full the world is of people, full to bursting, and each of them imaginable and consistently misimagined.
That night,I lay on my side,staring out the window into the invisible world outside. I kept trying to fall asleep,but then my eyes would dart open,just to check.
I couldn't help but hope that Margo Roth Spiegelman would return to my window and drag my tired ass through one more night I'd never forget. Lacey put a hand to her face, ashamed. There was no planning. No time for planning. No time for a future. But then the life spans started getting longer,and people started having more and more future, and so they spent more time thinking about it.
And now life has become the future. Every moment of your life is lived for the future Technically, I added, you should be embarrassed of him.
She rolled her eyes, smiling. A girl accustomed to compliments. As I took those two steps back, Margo took two equally small and quiet steps forward. I'm a big believer in random capitalization. The rules of capitalization are so unfair to words in the middle.
Nothing ever happens like you imagine it will I learn something about fear. I learn that it is not the idle fantasies of someone who maybe wants something important to happen to him, even if the important thing is horrible. But it was more than that. You can't divorce Margo the person from Margo the body.
You can't see one without seeing the other. My miracle was this: Do I just keep leaving places, and leaving them, and leaving them, tramping a perpetual journey? It is so hard to leave — until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world. Every moment of your life is lived for the future—you go to high school so you can go to college so you can get a good job so you can get a nice house so you can afford to send your kids to college so they can get a good job so they can get a nice house so they can afford to send their kids to college.
That is really lovely, my. But this problem rather pales in comparison to the other problem, which is that both T-shirts are embossed with huge Confederate flags. When a guy like that gets promoted to Executive Vice President of Urine Gunning, immediate action must be taken.
I understand that you do not control Chuck and Jasper. But you see, I am in a similar situation. I do not control the little devil sitting on my left shoulder. So do I little angel. They strain against the string and strain against it, and then something happens, and that string gets cut, and they just float away.
It was a place you go to die. I learn that it is not the idle fantasies of someone who maybe wants something important to happen to him, even if the important thing is horrible. This cannot be addressed by breathing exercises. This fear bears no analogy to any fear I knew before. This is the basest of all possible emotions, the feeling that was with us before we existed, before this building existed, before the earth existed.
This is the fear that made fish crawl out onto dry land and evolve lungs, the fear that teaches us to run, the fear that makes us bury our dead.
But I am not prepared. I made a feeble attempt. So grass is a metaphor for life, and for death, and for equality, and for connectedness, and for children, and for God, and for hope.
There was no shortage of ways to see her. Not like a sister loves a brother or like a friend loves a friend. I love you like a really drunk guy loves the best girl ever.
Even though you suck so much! But thanks for the beer! That way no one can steal it from me! You like me anyway. And I like you. To try, even at this great remove, to hear the opera of her. I liked that they liked each other. We idealize them as gods or dismiss them as animals. And I had never quite thought of her that way, not really; it was a failure of all my previous imaginings.
All along—not only since she left, but for a decade before—I had been imagining her without listening, without knowing that she made as poor a window as I did. Margo was not a miracle. She was not an adventure.
She was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl. Radar rolled his eyes. The human tongue is like wasabi: For the longest time, it felt kind of like my chest was cracking open, but not precisely in an unpleasant way.
I had engineered a most unlikely prom coupling. I had quieted the hounds of caste warfare. I had come to feel comfortable inside the rat-infested haunted house where she did her best thinking. But I could not yet become the wounded person. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world. Do I just keep leaving places, and leaving them, and leaving them, tramping a perpetual journey?
Pulling life out by the roots. And so when she left, she left for good. But I could not believe she had left for a perpetual journey. She had, I felt sure, left for a place—a place where she could stay long enough for it to matter, long enough for the next leaving to feel as good as the last one had. I hand him his shirt and he wiggles into it while driving with his knees.
I feel like this is an important idea, one of those ideas that your brain must wrap itself around slowly, the way pythons eat. We can hear others, and we can travel to them without moving, and we can imagine them, and we are all connected one to the other by a crazy root system like so many leaves of grass—but the game makes me wonder whether we can really ever fully become another. Two cows stand oblivious in the highway. They come into view all at once, a spotted cow in the left lane, and in our lane an immense creature, the entire width of our car, standing stock-still, her head turned back as she appraises us with blank eyes.
The cow is flawlessly white, a great white wall of cow that cannot be climbed or ducked or dodged. It can only be hit. He pats my uninjured cheek with a greasy hand. Maybe the sure knowledge that she is alive makes all of that possible again—even if I never see proof of it. I can almost imagine a happiness without her, the ability to let her go, to feel our roots are connected even if I never see that leaf of grass again.
The harder you spin it, the better it performs. No one says anything for a while. But there is still too much to be ruined. But that night you turned out to be real. And it ends up being so odd and fun and magical that I go back to my room in the morning and I just miss you. I looked down and thought about how I was made of paper. I was the flimsy-foldable person, not everyone else. People love the idea of a paper girl. The something deeper and more secret. But as for me:
Paper Towns Quote Post Hey book lovers! Sorry I am a couple of days late with this one but there were A LOT of quotes for this one! As always the quotes are organized chronologically, but the page numbers are from my hard cover copy. they are under the cut! # paper towns # paper towns quotes # dftba # nerdfighters # bookloversbookclub.
Quotes tagged as "paper-towns" (showing of ) “What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.” ― John Green, Paper Towns.
Paper Towns study guide contains a biography of John Green, literature essays, quiz questions, major themes, characters, and a full summary and analysis. paper towns quotes and page numbers "I always got very nervous whenever I heard that Margo was about to show up, on account of how she was the most fantastically gorgeous creature that .
Paper Towns 0 When I wake up, the dying light of the day makes everything seem to matter, from the yellowing sky to the stalks of grass above my head, waving in slow motion like a beauty queen. Paper Towns is John Green's latest book to be adapted to the big screen and we pulled some quotes to prove why it is his best book. 13 ‘Paper Towns’ quotes proving it’s John Green’s.