“The whole world can burn down around us. I'll keep my arms around you until the end.”— Joe Hill, amazon.com
“I'm afraid I won't go to hell... that there isn't a hell to go to. No heaven either. Just nothing. Mostly I think there emus be nothing after we die. Sometimes that seems like it would be a relief. Other times it's the most awful thing I can imagine.”— Joe Hill, amazon.com
“So many have wept for Jesus on His cross. As if no one else has ever suffered as He suffered. As if millions have not shuffled to worse deaths, and died unremembered.”— Joe Hill, amazon.com
“There's something horribly unfair about dying in the middle of a good story, before you have a chance to see how it all comes out. Of course, I suppose everyone ALWAYS dies in the middle of a good story, in a sense. Your own story. Or the story of your grandchildren. Death is a raw deal for narrativ…”— Joe Hill, amazon.com
“Everyone you lost was still there with you, and so maybe no one was ever lost at all.”— Joe Hill, amazon.com
“Just realized it's Friday the 13th! All makes sen-Wait, someone's at the door. I'll let him in. Hmm. He has a hockey mask and a machet-OHNO!”— Neil Patrick Harris, twitter.com
“The surge his body made when he considered living longer–even though it would bring him back to the same place–contemplating death.”— Albert Camus, amazon.com
“Almost everyone is obsessed with leaving a mark upon the world. Bequeathing a legacy. Outlasting death. We all want to be remembered. I do, too. That's what bothers me most, is being another unremembered casualty in the ancient and inglorious war against disease.”— John Green, Augustus Waters, amazon.com
“All I know of heaven and all I know of death is in this park: an elegant universe in ceaseless motion, teeming with ruined ruins and screaming children.”— John Green, Hazel, amazon.com
“I was thinking about the universe wanting to be noticed, and how I had to notice it as best I could. I felt that I owed a debt to the universe that only my attention could repay, and also that I owed a debt to everybody who didn't get to be a person anymore and everyone who hadn't gotten to be a per…”— John Green, Hazel, amazon.com
“I crawled into his unmade bed, wrapping myself in his comforter like a cocoon, surrounding myself with his smell. I took out my cannula so I could smell better, breathing him in and breathing him out, the scent fading even as I lay there, my chest burning until I could't distinguish among the pains.”— John Green, Hazel, amazon.com
“I thought of my dad telling me that the universe wants to be noticed. But what we want is to be noticed by the universe, to have the universe give a shit what happens to us—not the collective idea of sentient life but each of us, as individuals.”— John Green, Hazel, amazon.com
“I told him that he was fearing something universal and inevitable, and how really, the problem is not suffering itself or oblivion itself but the depraved meaningless of these things, the absolutely inhuman nihilism of suffering.”— John Green, Hazel, amazon.com
“I stopped. She was bleeding after all. Perfect lines crossed her wrists, not near any crucial veins, but enough to leave wet red tracks across her skin. She hadn't hit her veins when she did this; death hadn't been her goal.”— Richelle Mead, amazon.com
“I knew that time would now pass for me differently than it would for him—that I, like everyone in that room, would go on accumulating loves and losses while he would not.”— John Green, Hazel, amazon.com
“What am I at war with? My cancer. And what is my cancer? My cancer is me. The tumors are made of me. They're made of me as surely as my brain and my heart are made of me.”— John Green, Augustus Waters, amazon.com
“I like this world. I like drinking champagne. I like not smoking. I like the sound of Dutch people speaking Dutch. And now...I don't even get a battle. I don't get a fight.”— John Green, Augustus Waters, amazon.com
“And then he broke down, just for one moment, his sob roaring impotent like a clap of thunder unaccompanied by lightning, the terrible ferocity that amateurs in the field of suffering might mistake for weakness.”— John Green, Hazel, amazon.com