“We sat out there in silence for a minute and then Gus said, " I wish we had that swing set sometimes.""The one from my backyard?""Yeah. My nostalgia is so extreme that I am capable of missing a swing my butt never actually touched.""Nostalgia is a side effect of cancer," I told him."Nah, nostalgia is a side effect of dying," he answered. Above us, the wind blew and the branching shadows rearranged themselves on our skin. Gus squeezed my hand. "It is a good life, Hazel Grace.”

“Above us, the wind blew and the branching shadows rearranged themselves on our skin. Gus squeezed my hand. "It is a good life, Hazel Grace.”

“How are the eyes?''Oh, excellent,' he said. 'I mean, they're not in my head is the only problem.''Awesome, yeah,' Gus said. 'Not to one-up you or anything, but my body is made out of cancer.''So I heard,' Issac said, trying not to let it get to him. He fumbled toward Gus's hand and found only his thigh.'I'm taken,' Gus said.”

“But, in fact, depression is not a side effect of cancer. Depression is a side effect of dying. - Hazel Grace Lancaster”

“So how’s it going?”“Okay. Glad to be home, I guess. Gus told me you were in the ICU?”“Yeah,” I said.“Sucks,” he said.“I’m a lot better now,” I said. “I’m going to Amsterdam tomorrow with Gus.”“I know. I’m pretty well up-to-date on your life, because Gus never. Talks. About. Anything. Else.”

“depression is not a side effect of cancer. Depression is a side effect of dying.”

“Headline?" he asked."'Swing Set Needs Home,'" I said."'Desperately Lonely Swing Set Needs Loving Home,'" he said."'Lonely, Vaguely Pedophilic Swing Set Seeks the Butts of Children,'" I said.”