“I understand, Nate. I get the concept of infinity. It's like the two of us, like our friendship. No end, no limit. We're forever. That's infinity, right?”

“Love is like infinity: You can't have more or less infinity, and you can't compare two things to see if they're "equally infinite." Infinity just is, and that's the way I think love is, too.”

“It seemed like forever ago, like we've had this brief but still infinite forever. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.”

“Infinity is against us," I told him. "There's no way for us ever to count it or control it or understand it.”

“Infinity is the end. End without infinity is but a new beginning.”

“There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There's .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers than I'm likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I'm grateful.”