“I have loved you all my life, Mal,” I whispered through my tears. “There is no end to our story.”

“Augustus Waters was the great star-crossed love of my life. Ours was an epic love story, and I won’t be able to get more than a sentence into it without disappearing into a puddle of tears. Gus knew. Gus knows. I will not tell you our love story, because—like all real love stories—it will die with us, as it should.”

“You know why love stories have happy endings?” I shake my head.“Because they end too early,” she continues. “They always end right at the kiss. You never have to see all the bullshit that comes later. You know, Life.”

“And when Rambo whispered to me, assuring me of my nearest death, I was relieved at my parents' absence, for my death like all death should be a death and an end- no memory, no photograph, no stories and no mother's tears. In death everything should cease. All else is nothing but human vanity and make-believe.”

“Life didn’t go how I had planned, but I couldn’t have planned a better life. Somewhere in between the beginning and eternity, I fought the war that we all must fight – the journey that in taking, forces us to come face to face with our own realities. My reality was that I was, is and will always be madly and hopelessly in love with you. You are my love of loves, my dream of dreams, my hope of hopes, and I would take the journey all over again because it led me to you, because it’s our story – the story of us. As for the war, I surrendered.”

“All those stories need different endings——which is possible because it's my life and I do have the privelege of being able to write the story.”