Despite the tumor-shrinking medical miracle that bought her a couple of years ago, Hazel was never anything but a terminal, her final chapter inscribed upon diagnosis. But when suddenly a magnificent plot twist named Augustus Waters appears at the Cancer Kid Support Group, Hazel's story is about to ... be completely rewritten.
Insightful, bold, irreverent, and raw, The Fault in Our Stars is the most ambitious and heartbreaking work yet by award-winning author John Green, brilliantly exploring the funny, thrilling, and tragic business of being alive and in love.
There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does.
There were five others before they got to him. He smiled a little when his turn came. His voice was low, smoky, and dead sexy. My name is Augustus Waters, he said. I’m seventeen. I had a little touch of osteosarcoma a year and a half ago, but I’m just here today at Isaac’s request. And how are you feeling? asked Patrick. Oh, I’m grand. Augustus Waters smiled with a corner of his mouth. I’m on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend.
Whenever you read a cancer booklet or website or whatever, they always list depression among the side effects of cancer. But, in fact, depression is not a side effect of cancer. Depression is a side effect of dying.
Me: I refuse to attend Support Group. Mom: One of the symptoms of depression is disinterest in activities. Me: Please just let me watch America’s Next Top Model. It’s an activity. Mom: Television is a passivity. Me: Ugh, Mom, please. Mom: Hazel, you’re a teenager. You’re not a little kid anymore. You need to make friends, get out of the house, and live your life. Me: If you want me to be a teenager, don’t send me to Support Group. Buy me a fake ID so I can go to clubs, drink vodka, and take pot. Mom: You don’t take pot, for starters. Me: See, that’s the kind of thing I’d know if you got me a fake ID. Mom: You’re going to Support Group. Me: UGGGGGGGGGGGGG. Mom: Hazel, you deserve a life.