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9a920e8
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Maybe all the strings inside him broke.
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paper
paper-towns
quentin
towns
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John Green |
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e786152
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Nothing ever happens like you imagine it will... but then again, if you don't imagine, nothing ever happens at all. Imagining isn't perfect. You can't get all the way inside someone else... But imagining being someone else, or the world being something else, is the only way in. It is the machine that kills the fascists
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margo
quentin
thoughts
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John Green |
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e7c36aa
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I don't know how I look, but I know how I feel: Young. Goofy. Infinite.
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quentin
|
John Green |
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10b6387
|
I like the strings. I always have. Because that's how it feels. But the strings make pain seem more fatal than it is, I think. We're not as frail as the strings would make us believe. And I like the grass, too. The grass got me to you, helped me to imagine you as an actual person. But we're not different sprouts from the same plant. I can't be you. You can't be me. You can imagine another well - but never quite perfectly, you know?
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life
margo
quentin
strings
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John Green |