I don't care if the New York Times writes an obituary for me. I just want you to write one. ... You say you're not special because the world doesn't know about you, but that's an insult to me. I know about you.
If people were rain, I was a drizzle and she was a hurricane.
And long as we don't die, this is gonna be one hell of a story.
She loved mysteries so much, that she became one.
We are all barnacles on the container ship of consciousness
Hazel has to realize that her mom was wrong when she said, “I won’t be a mother anymore.” The truth is, after Hazel dies (assuming she dies), her mom will still be her mom, just as my grandmother is still my grandmother even though she has died. As long as either person is still alive, that relationship survives. (It changes, but it survives.)